


Then the Abyss Yawned.

by dracoon



Category: Psychopath Diary (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, absolutely scandalous, also refurnished the tags because Dongshik has 2 panromantic hands, also some sexual language lol, and you just have to roll with it, anyway I lied and it's a series of oneshots for this OT3 now, everyone is in character! shut up, sometimes you try to ask someone out and they bring their bf, the cafe date nobody asked for but I'm delivering, the worst third-wheeling date ever, they are big poly boys and girls, they hold hands or something
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 24,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoon/pseuds/dracoon
Summary: Yook Dongshik, Seo Inwoo and Shim Bokyung cohabit.A series(!!!) of oneshots with 3 idiots going on a coffee date and then! Actively dating each other. Mixture of fluff, angst and whump, which is whatever I want to write and feel like.
Relationships: Seo Inwoo/Shim Bokyung, Seo Inwoo/Yook Dongsik, Seo Inwoo/Yook Dongsik/Shim Bokyung, Yook Dongsik/Shim Bokyung
Comments: 31
Kudos: 93





	1. First Encounters...Again.

"Ah, you don't have to come with me--" Dongshik's voice rose in a whine when Bokyung clutched him by the arm, dragging him away from the cafe's doors, "I know what I'm doing-- He has a shock collar and all that--" 

Bokyung whirled on him with a huff, eyes narrowed as she tossed his arm to the side. "And what? Do you know how calm he was beating the lie detector?" she snarled, but she was unable to hide the pout forming on her features, "The collar wouldn't even go off _before_ you get stabbed in six places. Why did you even agree to this?" 

Dongshik rubbed one ankle over the other, and Bokyung swore that he was starting to _blush_ just a bit from embarrassment. "I needed more content for the sequel to Psychopath Diary," he admitted, though he didn't look Bokyung in the eye while he spoke, "So...why not ask the man himself how he's coping? It's not like they don't know we're here, right?" 

Bokyung sighed, unable to resist Dongshik's sparkling puppydog eyes and fuzzy mop of hair. "We're still going in together," she insisted, her brows creased firmly in a tight line, "I'm not letting him talk circles around us again like he did before." 

As they both entered the cafe, Bokyung's eyes immediately located the tired-looking man having a table to himself, calmly picking at the waffle he'd purchased. The strap on his neck didn't allay her worries, but as she watched Inwoo glance up towards them, he smiled seeing Dongshik before narrowing his eyes at her like she wasn't supposed to be here. Bokyung primped herself, her mission accomplished, before sashaying cheerily towards him and sitting across him. 

"This is a private meeting," Inwoo spoke before she could get a word in, "I know you cops have difficulty understanding personal boundaries, but I didn't think you as one of them, officer. Truly, you wound me with how little faith you have in me." 

Bokyung puffed up, offended. "Yeah, after you kidnapped me the last time we met? Our trust meter's hit an all-time low. Don't act coy to me about things. You're going to stab Dongshik with a fork if I look away or something."

Inwoo snorted, amused at her words before running his fingers across the strap of the collar he'd had to wear, giving her a disarming smile while he spoke- Bokyung noted how confident he still seemed despite his bruised face and weakened body. "In the bustle of this cafe? His meat wouldn't be sufficient for a plate of lasagna. Now, now. Leave the conspiracy theories at the door." 

Bokyung huffed again, unable to argue with his logic before Dongshik floated over, touting two milkshakes and a lava cake. If he sensed tension between the duo, he didn't comment on it. "Hey guys, am I interrupting something?" he asked, flashing them each his signature grin while he set the table for himself and Bokyung, "Won't want to butt into you two catching up." 

_Like how he nearly killed my dad_ , Bokyung mused inwardly with an eyeroll, but made certain to link hands with Dongshik as she accepted her milkshake from him, maintaining eye contact with Inwoo doing so. She noticed the scowl from him from the corner of her eye as Dongshik chuckled and patted her hand in return, her smirk growing more brazen. 

Inwoo thought to himself if Bokyung's meat would be enough for a plate of lasagna. He thought against it as he picked at his waffle again. 

Dongshik pulled out his book, opening it up to an empty page. "I just want to ask you some questions, is that ok?" he asked Inwoo, tilting his head and unconsciously adjusting his glasses, "You can always ask to stop if it gets too personal." 

"If it were, I wouldn't be here," Inwoo replied with a nod, picking up another cube of waffle while he hid a glare at Bokyung, "Ask away, I suppose." 

Bokyung gave another polite nod, turning to Dongshik. "We've only got an hour. Let's make the best of it," she informed her partner-in-crime, before giving him a fist bump, " _Hwaiting_." She continued to lounge, noisily slurping at her milkshake while Inwoo scowled at her offending presence.

Dongshik had by then buried his face in his notes, bombarding Inwoo with question after question about matters and conveniently missing the daggers Bokyung and Inwoo exchanged each other. 

This date was going _just_ swimmingly. 


	2. Character Descriptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small roundup of what we have thus far and where we are on the timeline c:

**Yook Dongshik** , 36 years old. 

> After his success in penning "Psychopath Diary", and the follow-up novel "Your Honor", Dongshik has been hidden away in a shared apartment with Bokyung and Inwoo doing research for his latest masterpiece, a historical novel about the Donghak Revolution named "Nokdu Flower". While he's earned quite a bit of royalties from TvN's purchase of the rights to reproduce his novel into a drama, Dongshik funnelled most of his money to his parents instead, and only saved a small amount to buy the apartment he now shares with his two significant others. 
> 
> Dongshik still works his day job at the escape room and has his "lackey" Chilsung visit from time to time, but he's content and happy with his lot in life (even if he wouldn't admit he's starting to have some writers' block right now) and takes notes of his partners' exploits from time to time as material for his writings. 

**Shim Bokyung,** 32 years old.

> Being promoted as a full-fledged profiler after her success apprehending Inwoo, Bokyung finally fulfilled her life goal of stepping into her father's footsteps to inherit his mantle. She went on to solve several cases, including a spree of petty crime only dubbed "Project Terius", and has made herself an invaluable asset in the force. Even then, Bokyung still devotes much of her free time to taking care of her father at the nursing home, a sentiment that her friend and ex-police partner Taeksoo sympathises with. 
> 
> She picks Dongshik's brain about matters fairly often even then, and while they cohabit now due to convenience, share a relationship that straddles between friends and lovers. Her edge and bitterness towards Inwoo never ceased, though, and they continue to share a bickering but less hostile relationship with each other. 

**Seo Inwoo,** 38 years old. 

> Spending a year in a coma and then trying again with Dongshik didn't blunt Inwoo's edge. Even the fact that his left ankle was permanently maimed did nothing to stop him. After being released from prison for being a disruptive presence and genuine insanity, Inwoo spent even more time in the psych ward when his brother Jihoon had, in a leap of faith, approached Dongshik about having him cohabit with them instead to avoid a relapse living with his abusive father. This evolved into a cycle of therapy and hostilities, turning Inwoo into a much gentler presence.
> 
> His obsession with Dongshik never ceased, though after a year it's been reduced to some minor threats and little progress. Inwoo sees Bokyung as an interesting obstacle to his aims, and share a bickering and confusing relationship that seem like lovers and not quite. He would however never lift a finger against them- he has better things to devote himself to now. 


	3. Marching to War, and For?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone messes with things that don't belong to them. Understandably, the involved party is ballistic.

"Home," Inwoo called, putting his hat and coat away on the coatrack, "I went to run the errands you asked me to-- what happened in here?" 

He searched the room and saw Bokyung holding her face where a bruise was already starting to form over her left eye, cuts dotting her face and arms as she looked back at him defiantly in a poor attempt not to show weakness. She always tried to put up a front with him despite them having lived together for a while.

While he'd been removed from prison for being a genuinely disruptive presence, what irked Inwoo was them pleading "insanity" for him and thus they'd worked out this living arrangement where he'd stay with Dongshik and Bokyung at Dongshik's (now largely) apartment for the time being. He couldn't complain too much. He was by and large free, and they'd been teaching him things, things he didn't think he would be able to grasp. 

For one, it meant actually caring about his new roommates. Predators had their own clans too, and if his two companions wanted to open their arms to welcome someone like him even after everything? It meant the world to him, though he'd never admit it. 

Dropping his items off to the side, he stumbled forth and cradled her face with his hands, searching her features before she pulled away. "I'm fine," she mumbled, though with little bite to it: Inwoo could feel the looseness of her jaw as though it'd been dislocated, and a snarl soon formed on his features. He couldn't get too angry, he knew, but this irked him. 

She was _his_. Who was audacious enough to attempt this? 

Thumbing away the blood on her mouth with a gloved thumb, he lowered himself to stare back at her. Bokyung flinched noticing the light in his eyes change- both she and Dongshik had been keeping an eye on in case he relapsed, and while they'd built up some semblence of a friendship again, she still knew at the back of her mind that this was a dangerous predator she was working with. 

Bokyung always worried about this uneasy alliance she had with him. It had taken a while of breaking down his walls and getting past her rage of what he'd done to her father, but she knew how vicious Inwoo got around her and Dongshik's well-being nowadays. The whole thing almost felt surreal, that unconditionally trusting him had turned into the situation they'd now had. Even quantifying this as a friendship seemed facetious. It was more of a temporary truce where he wasn't able to kill either of them. 

Dongshik was much more forgiving than she was, even though he'd been subjected to worst things by his hand. To him, it only meant that they were exerting control over each other and not one way- and he knew Inwoo would never hurt either of them. Perhaps it was just because he didn't want to be sent to jail again. 

Did he genuinely enjoy both their presences? Bokyung watched Inwoo stalk away for a moment before returning to her, stiffly offering her some cream for her troubles. She didn't like the look in his eyes, one she remembered him harboring when he'd tried to hunt her down in his office. Even if it wasn't directed at her, she worried for the person that he'd take it out on. 

Inwoo glanced towards the door again, before returning to her, tilting his head and allowing his hair to fall slightly to the side. He held her gaze in his, eyes fiery with barely restrained anger as she watched him search for the right words to say before gripping his arm with hers, trying to indicate with a slight shake of her head not to do whatever he had in mind. 

His gloved hands curled into tight fists as the collar sparked slightly. The countless methods he'd dismembered victims for less came to mind, growing more vivid at someone who had hurt something that was his. 

"Shim Bokyung-sshi. Who did this to you." 


	4. Karaoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongshik buys a cheap karaoke set for his two roommates. 
> 
> Shit happens.

Stumbling out of the shower, Inwoo watched Bokyung and Dongshik lug a box in and raised an eyebrow. "Just get it delivered. You're going to throw out your backs if you keep this out. I mean that to the both of you," he offered unhelpfully, arms folded as Bokyung dropped it off dramatically in front of the TV. 

"I'm sorry the money trees stopped growing recently. We've been having a crisis ever since," Bokyung snarked back, wrinkling her nose as she flopped down, Dongshik doing the same across her and rubbing his hands, "Grab me the penknife. Let's open up our new toy~" 

After some struggling with the tape, the box opened to reveal a karaoke set complete with mics. Dongshik immediately fished out the instruction booklet from within, leafing through it while Inwoo lugged the console out. They quibbled over the device for a few moments, and Dongshik soon assembled the karaoke machine with some help. It wasn't overly big or clunky, and they were soon connecting it to the internet to see what songs they could ideally browse. 

"Inwoo-sshi, you got any recommendations?" suggested Dongshik, adjusting his glasses while he sat on the floor looking at the others, "You know, songs and such." 

Inwoo scratched his head. "Death metal?" he replied, voice rising in a question and the other two quickly hushed him before he went forth with that. None of them wanted to wake the neighbors with that! Maybe having Inwoo make the suggestions wasn't the best idea. 

Dongshik shuffled the music suggested to them, adjusting the volume to something more comfortable before he started following the song- a folksy trot song he was familiar from listening to his father's soundtrack back at the chicken restaurant. Inwoo preemptively covered his ears at first, unsupportive, but Dongshik had a surprisingly nice voice, and Bokyung soon began harmonising with him too. 

The trio began pouring their hearts out singing various old tunes from the 80s, even the usually-stiff Inwoo being bought over by the infectious enthusiasm from his roommates (and wowing them with his actually-good singing voice), and Bokyung soon danced towards the fridge to bring out some beers for the occasion. 

As they drank and continued to screech and sing loudly, Inwoo soon retired from the singing, being unable to partake in alcohol unlike the others. A knock on the door interrupted them, and he scooched towards the door before opening it, towering over the old woman who'd seemed rather cross at first but suddenly buckling seeing the subtle pressure of his mere presence. 

"Anything the problem, ma'am?" he asked, flashing his usual charismatic smile, and when she muttered something about keeping the volume down, he glanced over to his two drunk companions and his grin grew more genuine as he returned to the woman. 

"I'll think about it." 


	5. Chump Journal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who am I? All I have for reference is this journal, and it sounds about right to who I used to be. 
> 
> But why do I feel so _out of place_?
> 
> AU where Inwoo loses his memory and ends up with Dongshik's (half-written) journal.

I'm trying very hard to be a good, kind person. That's what the diary said I was like- I kept giving and giving until I couldn't. 

My memories are murky. A year in a coma seems to do that to you, huh? All I remember was waking up with my left wrist handcuffed to the bedframe and an aching pain in my leg and arm. I don't understand why people keep giving me weird looks when I smile and greet them while I move around the hospital. Maybe I wasn't the type to do that? Smiling was a bit stiff for me at first, too, like I wasn't really used to doing that. Eventually, it seemed to come naturally. The diary said I liked to help people, and did as much as I could to not inconvenience anyone. It seemed about right, considering how I was still alone. 

Nobody comes to visit me, really. Sometimes a cop or two comes by to check how I've been. It's the same old, same old. One of them joked about taking a frying pan to my head just to check if I was "faking it". I really didn't want to know what'd happen if he really did that. People are so weird. Did they always use to do that around me? Maybe it's just a joke, like how I've been around here for a while and trying my best. 

Funny, though, the diary said I didn't exercise too much and preferred watching TV. I tried sitting down to watch a movie, since my ankle is still quite bad and I can't quite walk on it- but the romance bored me, and I couldn't keep myself awake long enough to know the ending. We'll never know if he got the girl, I guess. Supposedly, I had a collection of VCRs all about thriller movies, most involving serial killers. They looked at me weird again when I asked about it, though. Was it the way I phrased it? I don't know.

My syntax has been all over the place. The diary made me seem so casual and conversational- but when I talk, it's almost as though I'm hardwired to sound like a pretentious twat. Oh, everyone's beneath me, survival of the fittest kind of chaebol attitude. Don't tell them, but at the back of my mind, it just nags at me that it's probably true. People have always been stupid, and if they can't explain my amnesia, they probably are. My emotions are equally messy, too. Everything feels so stiff and distant, like I've never really actively _felt_ these things in a long time. I'm weird? Maybe something got reset when I hit my head? 

I shrug a bit feebly about the matter. All these don't add up, I'm sure of it, but it's my only point of reference. I'll just follow it until something finally makes sense to me. 

Hopefully that'll be eventually, because sitting around in a hospital is driving me _insane_. My body keeps insisting on working off all this excess energy, like I'm using to going for a jog or exercising. That can't be true. I work a clerk job at a cybersecurity firm- wait, no, I apparently _own_ that firm according to the nurses. 

...pffft! Like I'd be rich and capable enough to helm a company on my own. 

I'm a chump. That's how it should be. Just meandering on the lowest rungs of society and making do with what I've got. If I'm still alive, it can't be that bad, right? 

* * *

Well, I was supposed to go to prison, but the doctors say that since I can't remember "what I did", I got sent home instead with a tracking anklet. How insulting, it's not like I can (pfft) run away from them or anything, right? My ankle's still a mess, and I can't move very fast at all. If they say I should stay at home, I guess I'll just...stay at home! Gives me more time to read up on the journal and figure things out anyway. 

My house is so cold for some reason, I should really open my windows and let some sun in. It looks expensive. Maybe I must've gotten an amazing insurance payout to afford such a nice place. Past me had such shitty taste in architecture, one of my rooms has no windows at all. What is this, a prison simulation? I don't get why past me would hide a whole room behind a cupboard. At least the couch is kind of comfy. I had good taste in books, too, so maybe I could read to pass the time. 

Ok, no, we're not reading that. Who cares about the food chain and predator-prey relationships? I probably had some really vested interest in animals before I became like this. That's an idea, maybe I was all ready to be a veterinarian but failed the exam and ended up being a clerk instead. A medical degree's expensive in this day and age. If I bought such a fancy apartment, I probably bankrupted myself before I could continue studying.

Wow, past me was stupid. Haven't we thought about planning ahead? Curse you, past me, trapping me in this dead-end job! 

Even my inner voice sounds judgmental and pretentious. This is terrible. I'm trying very hard to be warm and nice to people, and even my own voice is judging me. 

I have...a lot of weapons. Why do I have a lot of weapons? That's a really realistic-looking shotgun replica, too. Wow, I really had money to burn in this clerk job, huh? 

Oh my god, I'm actually _good_ at them. No wonder I couldn't be a vet. I spent my extra cash on HEMA training or something. 

That probably also explains why people were terrified of me, I realise. Maybe I was swinging this huge samurai sword and doing really well at it. I'm sure I was compensating for something, but not anymore. It feels right in my hand, like if I two-handed it and cut through someone they would-- 

_What is wrong with me? Why did I even **think** about that? _

You are so messed up, past me. You don't just fantasize about _killing people_? We all know that's _sick_ and _wrong_. Killing people is immoral and bad. That's common sense. Snap out of it. 

I tried calling Dad, since in the diary he was warm and always wanted me home. He wouldn't pick up. Probably busy at the restaurant, I'm sure. I shouldn't bother him. Maybe I'll invite him to my nice apartment and sell all these weapons I have. Why do I even need these? That's silly. Maybe if I sold the weapons, I'd have a bit of change to give him and help him out. It must suck, throwing out his back like this working in and out of the restaurant after Mum died. Probably better that way. 

Checking my cabinet, I realise I've got a lot of suits and turtlenecks. That's a really impractical amount of suits. No wonder I couldn't even afford taxi fare. Past me didn't know how to budget his money for nuts. There's also this really nice windbreaker that's hidden all the way inside- it smells funny. The gloves that come with it smell funny too. Maybe it's time to bring them to the dry cleaner's. Musky husky past me probably couldn't even afford the drycleaner's to have it sit in his cabinet the way it did. 

The diary didn't say I was bad with money. This is sending me into such a crisis. How bad did I live my life that I didn't even know how to take care of myself? 

* * *

These two people who claim they're my friends came to visit me. They seem like nice folk, if the woman would stop glaring at me. 

I try to be friendly, but she gets on my nerves. The diary says I just take it, because I need to keep things the way it was. I take the high ground and internalise it but the urge to snark is really strong.

No! Control yourself! She's a cop and all the cops already hate you! You can't keep blowing this for yourself! 

Oddly enough, she seems a bit shocked at first, then _really_ impressed for some reason. Maybe my shining personality finally won her over. 

She mutters to her companion and I pick up something about "karma" in between. What did she mean by that? The fluffy-haired man smiles at me and I duck away. My heart starts pounding so hard whenever either of them look at me, like it's almost about to jump out of my chest and run away from me. I don't know why my body's reacting the way it does, what with me clenching and unclenching my fists with a headache pressing against my temples. My jaw starts clenching too, like I'm going to bite them if they look away from me. 

It's not normal- I might be dying? I hope I'm dying. God, please make sure I'm dying. The only logical reason to why I'm reacting like this is that I had a crush on them both, and past me was obviously polyamorous, but I accidentally ditched them both and now the woman is pissed. That's the only way this whole thing makes sense. 

I feel so sorry for her. Past me felt like a jerk in retrospect. She must've had the patience of a saint to date past me. 

We all shake hands and decide to start over "on a clean slate", since it's not like I can remember what I did before. That's nice. I feel suddenly so relieved to have friends. It's actually kind of nice to have friends for once in my life- past me seemed so lonely, giving and giving the way I did. Actually, it feels kind of good that people are starting to believe in me. Have I never felt this way before? I am _such_ an edgelord. I can't stand my past self, seriously. Could you imagine living with someone _this_ overdramatic? No wonder I keep trying to die. 

I stumble back to my couch and the diary falls out. "Oh, whoopsie," I start and pick it up- but the man with the fluffy hair gives me the most perplexed look I'd ever seen him hold throughout our meeting. 

"Uh," he interjects, clearing his throat and opening his hand out, "That's...my diary?" 

Sounds fake, but ok. What were the odds of me just _happening_ to pick up someone's personal diary? 

"No, sorry, this is obviously my diary," I point out, trying to be as logical as I can (was I always so logical? I hate the way I sound), "I found it when I woke from my coma." 

The woman looks between us, and her scowl cracks- she starts to laugh, a full-on laugh as she doubles over, clutching her stomach when she falls from her chair. We look to her confusedly, and the man starts to laugh too, looking surprisingly radiant doing so. 

"Oh...oh my god, let me regain my bearings first," the woman ekes out at last, "Truce, truce. This is karma at its finest. First you pick up his diary. Now it's the goddamn other way round. What are the odds?" 


	6. Tickles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokyung unleashes her secret weapon of bringing down people taller than her, to varying results.

"Dongshik-sshi," Bokyung shoved the lump that was swaddled in blankets, "Dongshik-sshi, you need to go to work. You're opening the escape room today." The lump wiggled, and a muffled moan escaped it as Dongshik blearily checked the clock before pulling his sheets closer to himself. 

"No...just five more minutes..." came the grumble, and Bokyung wiggled her fingers vigorously- before reaching under the sheets and tickling Dongshik vigorously. The fluffy-haired man squirmed at this, squealing in alarm before bursting into a mad fit of giggles trying to avoid her cold hands. 

"Up and at 'em!" she screamed, before they collapsed over each other like a pile of unfolded laundry, shivering uncontrollably from the fits of laughter. They looked up to Inwoo blearily staring at them with a coffee mug in hand, squinting with an air of bafflement at this display. His usually gelled hair was tousled, and he leant against the doorframe with a loose-fitting sweater and a pair of slacks on, having obviously been woken by the giggling that echoed through the apartment. Unlike the other two, he wore fuzzy slippers, one which was a brace for his left ankle. 

"What...what are you doing..." he asked, scratching at his shirt while he tilted his head in confusion, "Is this some sort of romance technique?" 

Bokyung scrambled off Dongshik and tucked her hair behind her ears, looking awkward about being caught. Twitching slightly, she'd been too riled up by the tickle fight and suddenly had an idea. She brazenly strode over to the man who'd tried to kill her only a year or so ago, before casually taking the mug from his hand. 

"Won't want you to drop this-" she began, drinking from it (ugh, black coffee, as dark as Inwoo's soul) before reaching out with her free hand and catching Inwoo in the stomach. Bokyung was tiny and made for tickle fights. This form of combat was suitable for her, and nobody was spared from early morning tickle assaults. 

A frigid pause fell in the room as Dongshik sat up, curled up in a blanket like an amoeba to protect himself. Inwoo stared down at the physical contact, before Bokyung's hand slid up under his sweater- and he crumpled in a strained fit of hoarse laughter while trying to flee from Bokyung's sudden onslaught. His long legs kicked feebly against the ground as Bokyung sat down, continuing to run her fingers through his tough, well-curated torso in a vigorous attempt to incapacitate him. It worked as he rolled around, trying to push her hand away from him to no avail. 

"Stop...what is this witchcraft...how dare you touch me..." Inwoo's words were punctured by his fits of hoarse laughter (he'd never _laughed_ the way he did now, mostly an occasional unhinged chuckle or small smirks) as Bokyung put the mug aside to devote herself to both hands, "Enough...give me my coffee...do you know who I am..." 

"Nooooo, Inwoo-sshi," Dongshik moaned unhelpfully as he took in this scene before waddling over to help Bokyung, "He's more ticklish than me!" 

The powerful and lithe Predator Killer of Seoul was hapless against the onslaught of tickles, and soon lay in a heap wheezing heavily when Dongshik finally picked up his glasses from the bedside table. Bokyung patted him on the head sheepishly before getting up, giving a stretch. 

"Good exercise!" she declared, looking perfectly cheerful at the motion. Inwoo sat up too, ruffling his hair with a light tint dusting his features: did he feel embarrassed about matters? He stared at his hands for a moment, seeming like he was processing something before he wiggled his fingers conspiratorially, looking to Dongshik who did the same. 

"Um. Ruh-roh," Bokyung watched the two predators advance on her with their hands outstretched and slowly backed away, "Gotta go!" 


	7. Courtship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio look for unique ways to propose to each other. 
> 
> Dongshik suggests that they don't just shop for rings- let's do something more _fun!_

They were much comfortable with each other now, and the topic of proposing had come up idly during dinner one night. Bokyung had piped up about it- she wanted at least to show her father in the event that complications might take him and both Dongshik and Inwoo agreed. Inwoo had also agreed to step back if they were to actually get married: it may not be wise to tell Bokyung's father that she was in love in the person who'd sabotaged him, and considering how _boring_ Korea was regarding polyamory... 

While Bokyung and Inwoo bickered about his presence, the cogs in Dongshik's mind began to turn. Adventurous as he were, he already had creative ideas to start the ball rolling before placing his fork down. "I actually have a couple of thoughts," he broke his silence to wave his hand at them both, and they fell silent to listen, "Shopping for rings is boring and we know that. Why not we give each other things and _then_ buy rings after? It'll make it so much more meaningful." 

Bokyung nodded with a smile, the tension in the room broken by his statement. "I think I might have some ideas, actually," she chirped before turning to Inwoo, "You?" 

Inwoo hid a smirk at this. "If you say so," he agreed with his usual eerie calmness, "Something already springs to mind for me as well."

* * *

Dongshik finished compiling his gifts, gently wrapping them up with a ribbon before rubbing his hands excitedly. He couldn't wait for them to open it up to see it! He brought the presents out into the living room and flopped down, placing the items on the table before him and certain the other two would do the same. 

Bokyung soon emerged from her room, wiping her brow and looking rather smug herself as she brought her laptop out. Inwoo as well joined them, but his hands seemed oddly devoid of things- Dongshik couldn't help but hide his face falling slightly, assuming Inwoo had found the idea too tacky and hadn't prepared anything. 

They huddled around with cushions, before Bokyung turned the TV on and began connecting to it with her laptop. "Can I start first?" she asked, and the other two waved their hands to suggest she go ahead. She soon showed them individual photos of how they've grown with each other over the past year or so cohabiting, including pictures of their various dates and Dongshik was immediately awestruck by the sheer amount of thought put into every meticulously-chosen shot Bokyung had selected. Inwoo's face remained blank as ever as she finally ended her presentation, twirling on her foot before offering them each a thumbdrive to "preserve the memory". 

"Ahhh, Bokyung-sshi!" Dongshik whined as he shuffled the items off the desk to prepare to give them out, "You make me look so tacky!" He offered them each a gift-wrapped item, and Inwoo eyed him suspiciously as he opened his. Bokyung tilted her head at the book she'd gotten, before flipping to the first page: tears welled up in her eyes and she covered her mouth scanning the text, before she flung herself over Dongshik in a dramatic embrace. Inwoo digested the words he saw after unwrapping his own item, blinking furiously for a few moments before joining them on the ground in the group embrace, surprisingly quiet about matters. 

Everyone had received a personalised diary from Dongshik, complete with handwritten messages of love and encouragement on the front. On the last page was his actual proposal, where he had individually tailored messages for them to marry him. They laid on the ground blissfully for a few moments, before all eyes fell on Inwoo who remained next to them. Dongshik glanced him over, still wondering what he had in mind as they all finally sat up, trying to remain attentive to whatever proposal he'd come up. 

From Inwoo's utility belt, he slid out a set of sheathed daggers- each with a hilt of obsidian, and with veins matching their individual favourite colors lining it to form the core of a gemstone. Dongshik let out a yelp of surprise as Inwoo offered them each one, looking mildly surprised at the suggestion before Bokyung eyed him suspiciously, unsheathing it slightly to reveal the well-crafted blade within. 

"Inwoo-sshi...what the fuck is this supposed to mean," she asked, still holding her garnet-hilted dagger in her right hand as he stood up, revealing his own ruby-hilted blade. Dongshik jumped to his feet with his emerald-hilted one in hand, staring at him confusedly when he removed his blade from the sheath, spinning it expertly in his right hand before spreading his feet out in a defensive stance. 

Bokyung plucked her own dagger from the sheath before examining it, and Dongshik turned to her in surprise. "What...what are we doing..." he muttered softly, and Inwoo's piercing gaze stared down upon them both. 

"Two on one. A trial by combat," he declared, his smirk growing as his grip firmed on his dagger, "Of course, as the winners, you would be entitled to marry...me. Consider it your good fortune to be offered such courtship." 

At this, Bokyung laughed, readying herself as her own grip slipped down onto her dagger's hilt. Dongshik clumsily plucked his out, pointing it at Inwoo- all the daggers had wooden blades, so the most they'd have was some minor bruising. It was definitely all in good fun.

They pushed the table aside, watching Inwoo's movements: and when he lunged, Bokyung surged forth to match. 

Dongshik'll admit, that was a surprisingly sexy idea for a proposal. 


	8. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Twitter user @HIHI_sinna's [extremely gut wrenching comic](https://twitter.com/HIHI_sinna/status/1223217620930818050). Take any complaints to them, not me (but please don't yell at them, they're Korean, don't be mean). 
> 
> Inwoo dreams of a happier time.

They were walking in the forest behind their mansion again- Inwoo never remembered doing this with him unless it was to be spanked, away from the prying eyes of the maids that had lived with them. He was a child again, dressed in the comfortable hoodie and "proper clothing" of a nicely-pressed collared shirt as he held his father's hand, walking through the undergrowth. 

"Do you see that? You'll be hunting here one day," he could hear his father say, but he was so distracted looking around that he hadn't noticed that he was holding his father's hand doing so. Father never let him hold his hand, not since Mother died. He needed to "grow up fast" and "not be so reliant on useless sensibilities" like being cuddled or having his hand held. 

Silence fell over them both while they walked, only the occasional rustle of the dead leaves under their feet showing how much they'd walked through the place. Inwoo could sense how vast the place was, small as he were. Everything seemed so much taller than him, and he was so close to the ground that he couldn't fathom hunting like his father did in this place. If something in the woods came out and trampled him, he'd be mush in seconds (compared to the powerful and lithe adult he had grown into). 

A whimper escaped Inwoo when he heard another rustle, clinging closer to his father doing so. The pain from being in close proximity never came as he looked up to him, seeing the surprisingly radiant grin on his face. Father never smiled, especially not at him. In the brightness of the sun, it was difficult to make out his features as they emerged from the other end of the woods, still tightly holding hands doing so. Inwoo's chubby face spread into a smile mirroring his father's as well, a tint of red dusting both his cheeks at the warmth of his father's grin down upon him. 

Father had never looked at him like that, or regarded him with such pride. Even Jihoon was kept at arm's length when he'd been born, and nothing he nor Inwoo did ever pleased him. 

The childish laughter erupted from Inwoo's small frame as they continued to walk, the sun seemingly growing brighter and brighter as it engulfed them both into the light...

* * *

In the hospital, another night had passed without incident. The lone man that lay in the drab, single bed continued to remain asleep, the doctors having declared that he was in what was basically a vegetative state where he was conscious of his surroundings but unable to move. His right wrist remained handcuffed to the rail of his bed, the only sign of his being a prisoner in both his physical state and his mind. 

Nobody visited the serial murderer's heavily-guarded ward. People had started forgetting about his regime of terror, and his family, who'd never liked him, had forsaken him. He was well and truly alone in the cold and quiet confines of the ward, wasting away every day with nobody that would even spare him a second glance at this point. 

While he couldn't speak, a single tear rolled down his cheek, staining the pillow his head was propped up in, the only sign of emotion he'd shown in a long time. His breaths quickened, then relaxed again, falling silent once more. 


	9. Mentorship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokyung takes lessons in her shooting skills from the least likely person to teach her.

Bokyung took a deep breath, steeling herself as she lifted the pistol she'd been assigned before taking a shot at the target: it went way off center from the bullseye, and she huffed, reloading her pistol to try again. Several rounds passed, and she was still unable to reliably hit the target she needed to. Her aim needed work, what with her shaky injured arm and the memory of Seo Inwoo firing at her seared in her mind. She never wanted to experience the fear he felt then ever again, but despite her best efforts, she didn't improve. 

Dejected and exhausted, she made her way home instead, intending to take a shower and then visit Dongshik's parents at their restaurant for takeout. Trudging back to the apartment, she opened the door to see Inwoo, clad in casual clothes and with a set of spectacles upon his face staring back at her.

"Why are you staring at me like that," he asked, looking mildly self-conscious at the choker he now wore to cover his injured neck when he rubbed it: they'd taken the shock collar off, and Dongshik suggested something more aesthetically pleasing in the meanwhile, "Something we could discuss? I can just listen too if you want to vent." She'd forgotten how _kind_ Inwoo had become sometimes- while he was still actively malicious and angry towards others, he'd been nothing short of apologetic to them both after quite a bit of therapy and seemed to keep trying to make things up for them. 

She'd have to admit, she probably would never get used to the look Inwoo had with his glasses on. It made him look completely harmless when she knew that deep down, he was still the same knife emoji of a man who'd nearly killed her that night in the office. Every time she recalled the coin-shaped ring he'd made on her neck with the hot muzzle of his rifle, it made it suddenly difficult for her to forgive him despite his best efforts. She knew that he was very ill. Bokyung just didn't know if she could overcome _herself_ to let him back in. 

"You went to the firing range again," Inwoo astutely pointed out, gesturing to the bag of chicken in her hand, "Every time you visit, you vent by buying chicken from Dongshik-sshi's parents and eating it alone." Bokyung scowled at how predictable she seemed to him- he liked his routines, and this must seem ridiculous to someone who was a sharpshooter when he'd been in top form.

Shuffling over to the couch, she opened her box and began tucking in, ignoring the sad looks from Inwoo to share. He'd had it only once and twice, but was immediately hooked. She wasn't about to share her comfort food. 

Bokyung watched as he meandered towards the toy rifle hanging on the wall, before removing it off its hinges and seeming to load invisible pellets into it with a single fluid motion. "Splay your legs out and ensure a steady grip. Your gun is too small for your hands, and you clench your fists while holding it. If you keep this up you'd hurt your wrist from the rebound force," he added, standing straight forward before miming himself firing a shot, "Move the muzzle up when you take the shot. It'll push your hand upwards anyway, so it allows for some sort of aim." 

"I don't get it," lied Bokyung, chewing on her chicken, "Why are you so invested? Won't you worry about me shooting you as revenge?" 

Inwoo's motions were swift as he joined her across the table, the rifle on his back as he leant forward to stare at her. 

"Being shot by you is a pleasure." 


	10. Speak Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone sits down for a session in therapy about what happened.

It was a weight at the back of Bokyung's mind.

She remembered vividly every detail, that night at the office where they'd fought. The feeble way she'd had to crawl under the table, terrified out of her mind hearing gunshots ring out once after another. The searing heat of Inwoo's pistol on her neck when Dongshik had taunted him- hell, there was still a scar after two years, a fact that Inwoo remained extremely and surprisingly apologetic about. Watching Dongshik run Inwoo through the window as it shattered, glass splintering everywhere as she watched the flicker of fear in Inwoo's eyes for the first time when he reflexively shoved Dongshik back before he fell. The sickening crunch she heard when Inwoo's descent finally stopped, a noise easily lost to the night if not for how quiet it had been. How she and Dongshik had clung to each other as the cops finally arrived, muttering to themselves that this nightmare was finally over. 

They were all difficult memories to revisit, something she knew that the others probably shared. They cohabited and often ribbed each other, but one thing they seemed to agree on was to never mention the incident in the office. Bokyung was certain they had their own individual trauma about matters: it was the breaking point for Dongshik, having been relentlessly hunted and finally gaining the upper hand on matters, and for Inwoo...well, the near-death experience for someone who prided himself a flawless predator was more than enough to have him never bring it up again for his own sake.

Even then, as she shuffled through the corridors of the hospital, she knew that they'd have to rip the scab off eventually. They couldn't keep living like this, sidestepping each other on a matter they knew still was fresh in their minds. Taeksoo had suggested they try group therapy- he'd received counselling when he'd been diagnosed with leukaemia years before meeting Bokyung, and he had reckoned the trauma of never mentioning it only would make it fester when they inevitably (and had) discussed matters of marriage.

She'd just try it once, she admitted, her tone unsure as ever when she glanced around warily. Dongshik would probably come, but she doubted Inwoo would swallow his pride for it. While Dongshik had agreed with her about matters, he'd put the incident behind him by and large and was more than happy to help her work through her trauma. Inwoo...Inwoo was an enigma wrapped in mystery, and he _never_ replied when she'd suggested the therapy session. Bokyung had figured it was simply his time in the psych ward speaking, a period of time he never talked about either. He kept a lot of his emotions close to himself, so much so that she wasn't sure if he'd been putting up a front or just luring them both to let their collective guards down. 

As she turned into the room with the psychiatrist, a friendly-looking, bespectacled man in his early 40s that was a family friend of Taeksoo's, she gave Dongshik a nod of thanks when she sat down beside him. He glanced over to the empty seat and back to them both, giving a reassuring smile as he looked through his clipboard of notes. 

"We can start--" Bokyung began, but met the gaze of the psychiatrist and quietened, suddenly feeling embarrassed and guilty about having so little faith in Inwoo. It wasn't really her fault, and she knew that it would be like pulling teeth to try and convince him. Dongshik remained quiet, no doubt rehearsing how he wanted to recount matters in his head (it wasn't the first time he had, considering he'd penned it down in Psychopath Diary), but Bokyung found herself growing increasingly nervous as she kept glancing towards the door. 

There was a knock on the door that followed, resounding through the quiet room as a familiarly long shadow fell upon the frosted glass. "Come in," chirped the psychiatrist, and the door slid open to reveal Inwoo, who hobbled in and took a seat on the chair. To Bokyung's surprise, his body language was uncharacteristic and even _evasive_ \- he'd kept his hands in his lap, refusing to acknowledge the others in the room when he looked down at his knuckles. She said nothing, turning her attention to the man before the three of them again. 

"I understand you're all here to work out some trauma about that incident two years ago. You all have files with us for PTSD," the psychiatrist began, and Bokyung visibly reddened at skipping out on her sessions due to her commitments and work, "We'll start things slow. I won't force you to share anything you don't want to. Just share whatever makes you comfortable." 

Dongshik raised a fist in the air. "Does reading my book help the sharing?" he began, visibly reddening at what he knew was a stupid remark. Inwoo scoffed, and Bokyung felt the tenseness in her body loosen at his words. 

"Yah, this isn't a book sharing. I'll clock you with it," she warned, before realising again where she was and turning back to the psychiatrist, tucking a loose curl behind her ear, "I...I'll start if Dongshik doesn't." 

Her sharing was rapid, her heart already beginning to pound with every word she said. The memories were flooding back at her recount, and she felt herself going faster and faster as though trying to speed up the process of every wound she was reopening. When she ended, though, she noticed that the others had gone very quiet: Dongshik once again pulled her into a hug, and she clung to him just as she had before with a sob that finally escaped her. She had cried too when it first happened, but being able to vent about it without judgment...maybe that was what she really needed, someone that would listen to them objectively. 

When she finally regained her composure, she watched as Inwoo abruptly got up to leave, his face the usual calm facade she'd gotten used to seeing. She knew he'd felt guilty about matters, if that was a thing he even understood, but it must've shaken him to hear her recount things this vividly. Bokyung got up herself, but the psychiatrist waved her down again with a gentle smile. 

"Worry about yourself first," the doctor began before she could protest, "Help yourself first. It's the biggest favor you can do for you." 

* * *

Inwoo stalked outside, sliding the door quietly behind himself before he sat down on one of the chairs while cradling his head. He could feel that sense of helplessness creeping up again- the wrathful look of Dongshik fading into one of abject horror and recognition when he pushed the man reflexively back towards the building before he fell through the night, the rage he harbored shifting into one that for once resembled fear.

When he woke up, he wanted to never feel that way again. He'd never had such weakness before, and both times it'd been _him_ that had brought it out of him. First, it'd been fear, an emotion stamped out of him with his father's abuse towards him. Then, the helplessness being locked in a body that refused to respond to him, another emotion he'd locked away the moment he'd tried to kill his stepbrother. Even now, his body twitched in a manner that was outside his control, a byproduct of the injuries he'd sustained as his body atrophied after a year in that coma. 

His gaze fell on his shoes: a comfortable pair of sneakers that could accommodate the ankle brace he wore on his left leg. It was a cruel reminder of what he'd become after that night, where everything was set into motion for Dongshik to claim his inevitable win. He'd been goaded into a blind rage the moment Dongshik had brought up the one person he hadn't been able to protect: the death of his innocence. When they'd welcomed his broken form back to them, it seemed easy enough to assume they had only wanted someone that was malleable and easy to control. 

Dongshik said it himself. A caged beast deserved to waste away. So why give him that chance? 

Bokyung's confession stung, loathe as he was to admit it. Frankly, he hadn't cared about either of them, and knew they would live to regret being so friendly to a monster like him. Why was he feeling this way to people he'd only seen as prey? Why did he even _feel_ for people like them? He'd believed for so long that he was dead on the inside, unflappable and calm with any deviations that approached.

Dongshik had piqued his interest being this brazen, and so did the company he'd brought with him. It was supposed to end there, and yet after two years he'd fallen so deep with them both. He hated himself for being so vulnerable and weak in their presence, or anyone else's. All he had to be was to live for himself, because he'd never known anyone else who'd let him in. Everyone had seen him as a liability that he too had believed he'd never amount to anything beyond that, having hidden that behind his mask of eerie calmness. 

Inwoo wiped his face, taking a shaky breath. They had to turn the page eventually, but first...he had to confront the feelings he'd thought he'd lost.

* * *

The rest had done their sharing when Inwoo finally returned, and when Bokyung reached out in an attempt to be comforting, he'd ignored her. Bokyung sighed, letting things go. He'd never been affectionate physically to either of them for obvious reasons, but she thought that for once he'd just let her take the lead in matters.

She watched him sit down, the usual calm and confident persona he'd always kept up even at his lowest seeming to crack when he stared staunchly forward, dark eyes mired in...what she could immediately tell as one that had mirrored her gaze just moments ago.

"I pushed Yook Dongshik-sshi back into the building. If I didn't, we both would've died from the combined weight falling into the garbage truck," he admitted, and Dongshik sagged, looking down at his shoes, "I'd never felt that way in a long time. The adrenaline fading into fear when my entire body shattered..." He paused, jaw clenching only slightly to reveal his uncertainty of sharing this before he managed to push on and continue. "I _never_ wanted to feel that way again."

At his sharing, the room fell into a surprised silence. Inwoo had always kept his cards close to himself, and his emotions even closer. From the year he'd been with them, Bokyung had never recalled seeing him this open. He'd been viciously protective of them, mentoring and defending them when he felt they needed it, but he'd never talked about himself. This was probably the first time he'd so candidly discussed the incident, or anything that he'd suffered that turned him into the sociopathic killer he became. Her concern faded to rapt attention as he shared, his voice remaining quiet and even as though he was but discussing a meeting with friends. 

When Inwoo finally finished his own sharing, rubbing his arm slightly as his gaze drifted downwards, Bokyung saw the psychiatrist crack another smile at them both. "Does it feel better to have talked about things?" he asked the trio with him, "You don't have to answer immediately. I just want you all to know that I'm happy you all keep me in good confidence to share with me about this incident. Different perspectives help to form a bigger picture, you see. Always remember, though, that before you help others, you need to be kind to yourself. Sometimes, being kind to yourself also means letting others in, or showing that you're vulnerable instead of cracking jokes." 

He raised both hands, looking sheepish. "I must sound really preachy, don't I? You can take these lessons and head on home first. Whenever you're ready, feel free to come back for another meeting." 

* * *

As they exited, Bokyung reached out again to squeeze Inwoo gently on the shoulder. He flinched visibly and pushed her arm away, his calm expression turning into an immediate scowl of annoyance at the unsolicited gesture, but when she forced a sheepish grin back, he merely turned away to start limping towards the car. Dongshik looked to Bokyung again and offered his hand in a silent gesture of solidarity, one she accepted as they exhaustedly trudged towards their ride. 

They had a lot to think about but at least one such thing was out of the way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like these oneshots please leave comments on what you'd like me to write next!


	11. Jet Lag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokyung pats both her significant others on the heads and leaves for a few days. 
> 
> Dongshik and Inwoo try their best not to restart their cat-and-mouse while she's gone.

"How long will you be gone?" Dongshik asked as he adjusted the glasses sliding down his nose bridge, still glancing at Bokyung's sports bag filled with clothing and writing supplies, "I mean, not like I'm worried or anything, just wondering." Bokyung zipped her bag up with finality, looking to Dongshik with a smile- her curled hair was already tied into a ponytail of meaning business when she stuffed her thinking beard into the side compartment before giving a stretch. 

"Only two days," she chirped in response, reaching out to ruffle Dongshik's hair, "Be nice to each other, and don't tie Inwoo to his bed or lock him in the escape room. I also gave Inwoo orders to not shoot you with his shotgun when you piss him off or frame you for murder, so hopefully I can come back to the house still standing, ok?" Dongshik scowled and gave a huff as Bokyung slung her bag over her shoulder, beginning to walk out of her room before heading towards the door where Inwoo was waiting. "Toodleloo," she added, wiggling her fingers, "I also told Dad I'd be away for a few days. Hopefully he doesn't fuss. Dongshik-sshi can visit him. _You_? Nah, save it." 

As the door clicked shut behind her, Dongshik huffed again and sat in a flop on Bokyung's bed with a frown. Inwoo's face didn't change despite the declarations, shuffling towards the couch to pick up the papers for the morning. 

"I'm in charge since Bokyung is gone," Dongshik stood up to declare, placing his hands on his hips as he walked out to face Inwoo, "This means I get to make all the decisions in the family for the next two days." 

"The dog stands on the table because he likes feeling tall," Inwoo retorted softly, his eyes not leaving the economics section of the papers he had in his hand, "Whatever you say, Yook Dongshik-sshi. Pray tell, what does my new supreme overlord want of little old me this time?" A hyena-like cackle escaped him when Inwoo abruptly closed the papers, placing his coffee mug on the table. "Wrong. Shim Bokyung-sshi never specifically gave anyone authority. Thus, we are both equal."

Dongshik scoffed and stared at Inwoo, refusing to yield. "Nuh-uh. I obviously get to take the lead," he replied petulantly, "You don't know how to do _anything_. The last time we sent you to buy groceries you got lost trying to take the bus. It's only for fairness' sake that I take the lead." 

Inwoo shrugged at this, unfazed by the other man's posturing. "How was I to know that buses have ridiculous _set schedules_ they'd have to follow?" he snapped derisively, "A mode of transportation brings you from one point to another without stopping. Who makes pauses to drop _others_ off, anyway?" At this, Dongshik pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that this was about to be the start of another argument. 

"You know what? I'm going to teach you how to get takeout at the local noodle place. That way, you won't starve when I go to work," Dongshik suggested, trying to change the subject. Inwoo's annoyance faded to bafflement at this. 

"Why would I _ever_ need to get takeout," he sighed, as though Dongshik's middle-class lifestyle was a source of inconvenience to him, "If I were to sit down at a restaurant, I'd want to enjoy myself and finish the meal there." 

Truth be told, Inwoo understood the basics of living their lives, he simply didn't want to lower himself to it. He just loved teasing Dongshik and making him burst- besides, he was the only person in the house with plenty of time, working freelance as a cybersecurity engineer as he currently were. With Bokyung gone, it meant that he could bully Dongshik as much as he wanted without risking a headbutt straight to the chest by the woman who'd gladly fight him at any given opportunity. 

Dongshik on the other hand was happy to finally gain the upper hand again. Even then, he was too kind and didn't want Inwoo to risk heading out with his leg giving him so much trouble. He knew that Inwoo could take a few hits for sure, but he understood how it was like to be inconvenienced. It was the least he could do to keep the peace in the household, loathe as he was to play Inwoo like a fiddle again. He promised Bokyung as much. 

* * *

They strolled outside, taking in the cool winter air while Inwoo quietly huffed as he lagged behind Dongshik. Dongshik had wanted something warm for them both, so they were exploring the beef broth places that littered the streets of Seoul. It was good and bad that everything was within walking distance, for it meant that they didn't need to quibble over the subway route- but it also meant Inwoo had to _walk_. 

"Galbi is on the second floor," Dongshik pointed out, bouncing on the balls of his heels excitedly. He had the attention span of a mayfly when it came to food, but being surrounded by so many options, Inwoo could almost forgive him. While he'd been used to restaurant strips in the better parts of Gangnam, the dinky back alleys of Mokdo were starting to spoil him a little, too. 

Inwoo glanced over to check if there was a lift- there were none, and he immediately scowled in annoyance before schooling his face back to his usual passive facade. "When I get up the stairs I'll push you down it," he grunted in reply, his patience rapidly running thin, "Let's see how you feel about exerting extra effort for galbi." 

Dongshik fluffed his coat up (how _obnoxious_ of him, Inwoo mused, attempting to hide the flush in his cheeks) before looking back to the neon signs that dotted the area. "I'd do it," he chirped, looking at ease about matters, "My mum always told me to eat well. Least I can do!" As Dongshik peered at the restaurant's doors before letting himself into the ground floor stew place across them, Inwoo hobbled behind warily while still trying to take the rest of the view in. 

They sat and ate quietly, and Inwoo was not just drinking the soup but the view, too. Dongshik ate like a hamster, stuffing his cheeks full of beef cubes and occasionally giving him a dopey grin when he got caught. _Stop...being...cute_ , Inwoo's mind raced with conflicting thoughts of annoyance and attraction at this, quickly hiding the reddening of his ears by loudly chalking it up to the weather. Dongshik giggled at this, tilting his head from side to side to taunt the obviously flustered Inwoo. 

He enjoyed teasing Inwoo about matters: it was cute to see Inwoo falter in showing how he actually felt when he always kept his emotions under lock and key. While Inwoo always remained controlled and calm, there were always tics in his body language that shone through, which made the teasing intensify the moment he began whining to deny it. It was funny that Inwoo only lost his composure with him and Bokyung, especially with him. Dongshik basked in the attention, really, having Inwoo wrapped around his finger that way. 

* * *

As Dongshik came out of the shower, he watched Inwoo stare at the iPad screen with his legs to his chest, hugging it with his usual blank expression while he peeked over his knees at it. Bokyung was calling, and it seemed he had no intention to pick it up. 

"You do it," Inwoo mumbled, his face pressed against his legs and refusing to move, "I can't reach." 

"You can? Just scooch over," Dongshik snorted at the other man's theatrics, but pulled up his own chair before sliding over to pick up the call, "Hi, Bokyung-sshi! How's Jeju Island? Is it really cold up there?" 

" _Yeah, it is but Taeksoo-sshi got us a nice hotel, so it's all good_ ," Bokyung's familiar voice wafted from the screen as she gave them both a tired wave before she surveyed them both, " _I get to see the sun rise here! And the clam diver women are so sweet. They've been really helpful with our case so far. Why is Seo Inwoo-sshi sulking? ...yah! Did you slip again?_ " 

"No," Inwoo lifted his head just enough to avoid having Bokyung (and Dongshik) see how much he was blushing, being forced to share a house with just Dongshik alone, "Terrible that you'd have such little faith. I'm very wounded by you always thinking the worst of me." 

" _Ok, whatever_ ," came the reply, Bokyung's camera shaking as she seemed to start taking off her coat, a muffled noise coming from the background while she did, " _Gotta turn in first, Taeksoo-sshi says I'm keeping him up whispering sweet nothings to you two_. _I'll call again tomorrow if I have time after reporting back to the police post here. Got you all some snacks as souvenirs. Just you wait~ I'm coming home doubly quick!_ " 

"Good night, Bokyung-sshi~" Dongshik's voice took on a singsong lilt as he wrinkled his nose, and Bokyung booped the screen with a finger with a satisfied grin before the screen cut out from her hanging up.

Inwoo got up abruptly, unfolding himself like a lawn chair to begin striding as quickly as he could to his room. He quickly shut the door before cupping his hands on his cheeks, more flustered than usual about matters. At least he seemed normal heading into his room to turn in for the night. He just needed to survive the second day of looking at Dongshik's cute chipmunk face without slipping up. 

Dongshik watched Inwoo stumble over himself trying to enter his room before staggering inside, shutting the door behind him- before bursting into cackles, kicking his legs into the air seeing the man suddenly so _emotional_ about things. This was definitely why they were in love, and he just knew it. 


	12. Collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongshik gets invited to talk in a library surrounded by children about his book! 
> 
> Shenanigans occur when he meets...himself?
> 
> Crossover with Nokdu Flower! With a casual namedrop from Justice.

"Bill, bill, bill," Inwoo's hands moved deftly across the table as he opened the letters with his letter knife, as decisive as he'd always been about matters before he picked up the final one from the pile to turn it over, tapping it twice with the blade, "Oh, would you look at that, a letter for you, Yook Dongshik-sshi. How _lovely_." 

Dongshik looked up from his Switch, glancing over in curiosity. "I told you to catalogue fanmail into the basket, I'll read them later," he scoffed, "Don't disturb me. I'm playing Fire Emblem. If I have to rewind again, I'm going to buy the rewinds with your credit card." He returned to his game, but raised his eyes at Inwoo playing with the envelope in his fingers instead of opening it. 

Another sarcastic remark from Inwoo came when he traced the emblem on the envelope itself. "Didn't know the entire library board sends you fanmail," he snorted, tossing the envelope into Dongshik's lap, "Would it kill you to pass me the game and open it? You suck at Fire Emblem, anyway. Just give me the Switch." Dongshik yelped at the letter before reluctantly passing the Switch to Inwoo, tearing it open on his own. 

"Oh, I wrote to the library board about carrying my books there. They must've spoken to my publisher cuz they want me to host a talk," Dongshik commented lightly, looking pleased at the quick response, "Who knows what type of audience I'd be talking to? I'm so _excited_! I love meeting people. If this takes off, it means Psychopath Diary would be in all the libraries in Korea! How cool is _that_!" 

Inwoo resisted making a snarky comment, and he was mostly preoccupied with the grid he had on the screen. Instead, he opted for a sarcastic "whatever you say" and left the conversation at that. There was no point in him diminishing Dongshik's happiness when he was already so prone to crashing and burning. 

* * *

Dongshik soon settled in to start the sharing session, enthusiastic as he was about matters. A group of enthusiastic kids had already sat down to start paying attention to his chat about his latest book- an educational and insightful study of the Donghak Rebellion, as told from the perspective of two brothers fighting on opposing sides. As he continued to talk, unaware that he was losing his audience, Dongshik glanced around idly and noticed two suspicious figures seated on the far end of the room. Remembering the previous incident, he grew cautious, and soon began making up excuses in the background to ensure the children wouldn't be accidentally held up for his own problems.

He sent the children away for a break, just as he watched one of the figures stand up- a rather lithe man with a bandana pushing his fringe back, what was distinct of the man dressed in overalls was the black brace he wore on his right hand as he approached Dongshik. The other...Dongshik startled, meeting face-to-face with someone that seemed _almost exactly like him_...yet different, sitting in a wheelchair but with a gaze so sharp that it could cut glass. If he didn't notice the other with him, Dongshik would've sworn up and down that it was Inwoo channeling the other man. 

"Was trying to learn more about the guy who'd choose such a weird topic to write about. Hit a little close to home for me and my younger bro," the man in the bandana spoke, "What? Cat got your tongue?" Dongshik ruffled his hair with a shake of his head, giving a bow to them both. 

"I was extracting material from the exhibits...I didn't really think that someone would notice," he admitted sheepishly, and his mirror tilted his head in reply, "Ah! I never got your names. May I ask?" 

"Ah!" The man in the goatee cackled, "I'm Baek Yikang. This is my brother Yihyun. You referenced our great-grandfather and granduncle in your book. Figured we'd swing by and grab some royalties." The man in the wheelchair- Yihyun, rolled his eyes at the mention, and Dongshik pulled up a chair in interest about matters. 

He'd done his research- but he didn't expect them to actually still be out there. What were the odds? Dongshik straightened again and grinned cheerfully. "I hope I did your ancestors justice!" he chirped, and Yikang leant forth, grinning. 

"Don't stand on ceremony. Someone was going to write that eventually," Yikang replied in an equally chipper tone- Dongshik could get used to this, "We can probably find a bit of time, don't mind going through the old family history to find out how to make things more legitimate." 

Dongshik's eyes still trailed to Yihyun, suddenly awkward about matters. They were so alike, yet so different. Yihyun looked tortured, and even in the chair carried himself with utter confidence. Dongshik on the other hand had flown all over the place like an over-excited golden retriever. How could two people that looked similar act so differently? 

He remembered Inwoo joking about meeting a mirror of himself in the psych ward- some serial rapist named Tak Suho. They'd fought that day, and Suho had insisted Inwoo was an inferior copy of himself after they'd been broken up. Inwoo had scoffed that someone like him sharing his "beautiful, god-given physique" was an insult to his existence.

From the way Yihyun studied him, Dongshik suddenly felt conscious of himself too. 

"Yeah. More research is much appreciated," Dongshik finally found his tongue again, distracted. He felt Yihyun probably had the same thought about the matter considering how silent the other had been. 

Yikang grinned again, giving a hearty laugh while Yihyun's gaze swept across to Dongshik once more. "I'm not sure how I feel about this, hyung," Yihyun finally broke his silence to call to his brother, "Are we sure we didn't lose a twin partway? Father had issues." 

The joke lightened the mood considerably and Dongshik felt the knot in his shoulders relax. It had been awkward and weird before, but now...he suddenly felt so much more confident. 


	13. What is Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongshik and Inwoo share a table at a con. 
> 
> Dongshik dispenses love advice. Inwoo escalates it.

"Hey, hey, Inwoo-sshi. Guess what," There Dongshik went again, leaning from his office chair lazily to look at Inwoo spritzing his plants, "I got the table I was looking at. Comic World at Seoul finally wrote back to me, so I have a table for the weekend to advertise!" 

Inwoo bent down to pull some weeds from one of the pots, pruning it with a small pair of shears. "Why would people pay you for anything," he scoffed, looking disdainful, "The book about our shared experience did so well that _I_ should receive royalties for it. Where are my royalties, hm? I need a cut of the profits, for I am extremely poor now."

He waved his hand in a gesture of demanding in front of Dongshik, and Dongshik grabbed it before poising to take a nibble out of his fingers- Inwoo pulled away, disgusted but unable to hide the burning sensation in his cheeks at the proximity. "It's a Valentine's Day special so they want me to give advice about falling in love..." Dongshik trailed off, before cupping both his cheeks in his hands and slowly glancing to Inwoo, "But I've never fallen in love before. How can I even help them?" 

At this, Inwoo gave Dongshik a withering stare as he put the shears away before wiping his hands. "You are about as dense as a supermassive black hole. If you'd fallen off the office that night, you'd probably just bounce," Inwoo replied pointedly, searching Dongshik's gaze for any sign of intelligent life, "Think _really_ long and hard about our arrangement, Yook Dongshik-sshi. I beg you. For a second, please think before you open that beak of yours." 

Dongshik returned his gaze to Inwoo, beaming and looking inordinately smug about matters- Inwoo had to cover his face a second time to stop the growing blush forming on his face at the fact that he'd been hoodwinked _yet again_. "Yeah, we're taking care of you. Isn't that right, _hyung_?" he replied patronisingly, reaching up to ruffle Inwoo's hair (Dongshik knew that was off limits, he spent _so much time_ gelling it up but he _always_ did) and ensuring to stress the honorific, "Don't you worry your little head about things!" 

Inwoo's fists clenched as he flinched away, flustered and annoyed all at once. How _dare_ he...how could he make him feel the way he did and move to his beat while still being so _obnoxious_? Dongshik merely chuckled seeing this, though he soon took a step back to keep his distance. He hated how Dongshik tried to act like he was oh-so-considerate when he kept violating their rules. Trying to stop the snarl crawling up his features at this, Inwoo huffed before relaxing once again, watching Dongshik pin the letter up on their shared pinboard. 

"Let's go together," Dongshik suggested, shrugging at the invitation, "Go outside before you get all moldy." 

"I'm fine indoors," Inwoo retorted, sensing this devolving into a lover's tiff, "Don't worry your little head about me. What kind of utterly abysmal advice do you even want me to dispense? It's a Valentine's Day event. The last person you should consult is the stunted man with no emotions."

Dongshik whined and gave a pout in response- Inwoo shielded his face again to avoid locking gazes with it and weakening his resolve. "You can sit there and be quiet then. You're intimidating! You can have a go at the people who try to cause trouble," he offered, clasping his hands together, "Pleeeeeeease. Bokyung-sshi isn't available on weekends and it'll be awkward if the person dispensing love advice goes alone..." 

"I-I'll t-think about it," Inwoo replied falteringly, still having his cheeks cupped in his hands to avoid looking at him, "It's not that soon anyway. W-we'll see a-about that." Dongshik bounced over and happily wrapped his arms around Inwoo's waist, burying his face into his stomach doing so. 

"Ohmygodthankyouthankyouthankyou~" Dongshik's words came out in an incomprehensible babble in his excitement, "You won't regret it!" 

* * *

Bokyung made it a point to drop them off at Comic World before heading back to work- it was unfortunate, but there was a case she had to attend to and she was swamped by the meetings and interviews she'd been forced to conduct. Ruffling Dongshik's hair before booping Inwoo on the nose, she stopped at the taxi stand to let the both of them get out. 

"Don't have too much fun," she cooed to them both, looking every bit the proud mother dropping her two children off for the first time. 

Dongshik gave her a wave. "See you tonight, Bokyung-sshi!" he enthused, waving goodbye as he tugged Inwoo on the arm, "Let's get us inside!" 

As they sat down, Inwoo remained wary and observant while Dongshik gave out autographs and sold more books, more concerned for them both than anything. It was a mixed bag of people, really, mostly young couples who'd visited as a getaway and were fans of Dongshik's escape room. 

Though, his attention was drawn back when a young lady stood longer than usual in front of their booth- the first thing he noticed was her body language, evasive and trying to keep herself as small as possible. He rubbed his arms, curious as he leant forth to start eavesdropping quite blatantly on their conversation. 

"...you should speak to social services, sorry," Dongshik frowned, and Inwoo watched her shift uncomfortably, "That...that doesn't sound right at all. I'm sorry, I can't give you advice for this--" 

"--but I can," Inwoo spoke up, to Dongshik's surprise, "I might have missed the first portion of the conversation. Maybe I could offer insight my boyfriend cannot." 

Dongshik huffed at Inwoo's mention of _boyfriend_ \- he only used that term of endearment when it benefitted him, not when it mattered but stiffened when Inwoo listened to the woman's side of the story, nodding slowly to himself. 

"Hey. Don't get any ideas," he quickly interjected before Inwoo could speak, but the man gently put his hands away. 

"Dongshik-sshi is right. Do get in contact with the police," Inwoo confirmed, looking worried, "I don't agree that it's still love if he's turning his anger on your son. It could lead to wounds that can't quite be treated, in here. Then again, if he's so far gone..." He wrinkled his nose, reminiscent of Dongshik's own. "We never know. Accidents befall people like them." 

As the woman skittered away at his vague warning, Dongshik puffed his cheeks out. "She's a victim! Why would you threaten her?" he grumbled, and Inwoo shrugged at the motion. 

"Bad things happen to bad people sometimes," he confirmed, apathy apparent in his tone, "Sometimes you just have to escalate things." 


	14. Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokyung notices Inwoo has learnt something unique and heartwarming.

Bokyung came from her office to notice a group of lower-ranked detectives nervously milling around the pantry. "There's a visitor for you," one managed to pipe up, "He's...he's...uhm, he's tall..." 

"And was a serial killer, yeah," she chuckled to herself as she added on, "Don't worry. He's harmless now! You can stomp on his left foot and his mouth opens like a trash can, hehe." Placing her hands in her pockets, she sauntered out to meet Inwoo, just as he poked his head out from the next room. He still towered over her, but seemed sheepish and awkward being noticed the way he had- though, it immediately faded to his usual confident poise when he straightened his back to stare.

"Just needed to get the anklet primed," he began before she could ask, gesturing to the anklet attached to the brace he'd gotten accustomed to wearing, "Figured I'd buy you lunch in the meantime, while I'm here visiting. Don't get too used to it, you know that this type of spoiling won't happen as often."

Bokyung rolled her eyes in response, about to take Inwoo's offered hand when two policemen entered, holding a battered man in their arms. The man rubbed his hands together, moaning unintelligibly as he looked up pleadingly at the profiler and her companion. "He got assaulted but it looks like he can't speak," one of the policemen stated gruffly, "We can't find the people who did it, and he doesn't seem like he's in any shape to write. We--" 

Inwoo twitched involuntarily as he turned to them, recognition flickering in his gaze. Bokyung watched in surprise and amazement as he began to sign, watching the battered victim nod furiously and sign back in response. "Hm...yes, I see," Inwoo muttered to himself, still keeping the conversation going as he turned to Bokyung, "Do you mind helping me take a few notes, Shim Bokyung-sshi? I think I might be able to communicate with him about what happened." 

The policemen shifted uncomfortably at the display, but Bokyung flipped out a notebook to pay attention. Unlike the others, she trusted Inwoo. After taking some notes about matters with Inwoo's input, she tore the page off and handed it off to one of the policemen. "Get an interpreter, these are his personal details," she sighed, and the policemen nudged the man away with the note. 

Bokyung turned to Inwoo, curious now. "When...did you learn to sign?" 

> _The disheveled man in the hospital bed stared ahead, his face schooled into a look of tight annoyance. He'd been given a wordboard to learn the Korean sign language alphabet, and while he'd been conscious, his body had atrophied and he'd had to learn to speak again. Even then, he was sick of glaring at the nurses as they wordlessly milled about their duties. He needed some method to communicate with others, speech notwithstanding- he'd been too weak to hold a pen as well, and talking was difficult with everything else._
> 
> _He couldn't stand feeling this useless and numb. It irked him with the fog that seemed to settle not only in his mind but his body. Tracing the individual letters with his fingers, he concentrated on this instead. It was easier to occupy himself than to suffer in silence. Once he was fully equipped, he could take his vengeance again. For now...that would have to wait._

Inwoo shrugged, slipping into another fluid lie. "Hunters have signals to indicate advances and search for prey. There isn't anything else that you think would contribute to this skill." 

She scoffed quietly as she took Inwoo's arm, matching his hobble as they walked together. 


	15. Brotherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongshik and Inwoo reflect upon their attitudes to their brothers. 
> 
> Bit of a vent piece for me.

"Dongchan-ah," Dongshik dropped off the groceries on the table and rapped on his brother's room door, "I'm home for a bit. Tell Dad I bought the groceries so he doesn't have to."

There was a groan before Dongchan opened it, squinting sleepily at Dongshik. "Hyuuuuuuung. I'm so tired. I just had dance training and slept for 2 minutes before you blasted home," he whined, his hair still damp from showering, "Couldn't you at least call and give a heads up? Idol training is hard..." Dongshik touched Dongchan's hair, making a disgusted face at how wet it was. 

"It's winter, you're going to catch a cold," he nagged, looking into the drawers for the hairdryer, "I'll help you dry your hair, and then you can go take your nap, ok?" Dongchan brightened at worming out hair drying from his older brother, making a beeline for a chair as he quickly plopped himself down. 

Dongshik strode over with a towel, hairdryer in hand as he started fluffing and drying Dongchan's hair. All the while, his brother whined about how he'd get frayed ends and it would make it difficult to style, but they shared a comfortable banter until Dongshik finally pulled away. "Ok, I think you're all dry now!" he chirped, tossing Dongchan the towel, "Go take your nap. You have night classes later, right?" 

At this, Dongchan's lip quivered slightly. Even though he wouldn't admit it, he was still the clingy 18-year-old who missed his brother, and he gave Dongshik a tight hug. "Come back often, hyung," grumbled Dongchan, pretending he wasn't about to tear up any moment, "Dad won't say it, but he misses you a lot. The house isn't the same without you!" 

Chuckling to himself, Dongshik ruffled Dongchan's hair again. "I have my own house now, and I'm dating Officer Shim! We live together! She'll keep me in check!" he replied, trying to comfort his little brother, "And if anything, you'll always be my little bro." 

The dam of tears finally broke as Dongchan let out an unmanly wail, clinging to his older brother as he sobbed about how much he missed him. 

* * *

They'd chosen a crowded cafe, a place Inwoo fondly remembered visiting [not too long ago](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328602/chapters/53336893). He crossed one leg over the other, enjoying his waffle before he watched the other man get out of his car and stride into the cafe, balking at his presence. 

Inwoo locked eyes with Jihoon for a moment, searching the man's fearful body language with curiosity and detached interest. He continued to nibble on his waffle even as Jihoon sat down, opening his legs wide and trying to take up as much space as he could on the large sofa chair in a poor bid to assert dominance. 

"If you want money, I could wire it to you," Jihoon complained, unable to hide the quiver of fear from his annoyed voice, "Why do we have to meet? Have you not embarrassed us enough?" He always pulled that card with him, Inwoo sighed. Some things simply didn't change, and he turned to his waffle to continue cutting another perfect cube off it. He'd have to thank Bokyung later for introducing him to waffles- his obsessive nature fit the cubical nature of the waffle ridges and how he needed _exactly_ enough space between them to eat. 

Jihoon continued talking, babbling about how busy he was cleaning up after Inwoo and all the damage control he had to do, and when Inwoo felt like making a point, he merely dropped the cutlery he had before him with a louder clatter than usual, and Jihoon fell into a terrified silence. "I didn't call you here to start a fight," Inwoo began, maintaining his calm exterior as he always did, "Order whatever you want from the menu." 

Unwilling to risk his brother's wrath, Jihoon meekly ordered himself a slice of cake. He inwardly mused about how he'd thankfully not had anything planned that afternoon, but he noticed how calm Inwoo was about affairs (almost unreadably so) and cringed. Inwoo could snap at a moment's notice, and he was aware of that. It was better to tread lightly for now, and he sent his bodyguard away before quietly eating the cake he'd been served. 

They sat in silence for the longest time, before Inwoo found his words again. "...It's good to see you again," he stated, and Jihoon nearly choked on his cake. Inwoo had planned this meeting all just to say _that_? He couldn't understand what his brother was thinking sometimes, but he gave Inwoo a small nod before continuing to nibble on his. He couldn't help but glance up at Inwoo once in a while, though, noticing how his usually self-assured and confident brother was _fidgeting_.

Seeing the weird look Jihoon gave him, Inwoo rolled his shoulders before shrugging. "I just haven't seen you in a while, that's all," he mumbled, quickly averting his gaze- he hated feeling so _vulnerable_ in front of the brother he'd spent most of his life despising. Jihoon flinched, before remembering what the therapist had told him about Inwoo reconnecting with his emotions. Hm, so this was a part of his therapy process?

Tamping down his own misgivings, he quickly put on a reassuring smile to his brother. For them, this needed to go both ways, and Jihoon knew himself that a lot of things that'd happened between them wasn't really either of their faults either. They'd both _needed_ therapy for their father's death- Jihoon for nearly being a victim himself, and Inwoo for well, being himself.

Jihoon wasn't sure if he'd be able to fully get over matters, but he could tell Inwoo was trying. Maybe suckering that idiot subordinate of Inwoo's he'd been so obsessed with to take him in wasn't that bad an idea after all. He regretted offering so little a payout to that man. Shrugging off those thoughts, he eventually finished the cake and put the spoon away, looking back to Inwoo- his _stepbrother_ , not the crazy callous bastard who'd been trying to kill him since they were five. He almost seemed human. 

_Almost._


	16. Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inwoo is hospitalised. 
> 
> Dongshik and Bokyung try to get him something that makes him feel like home. 
> 
> Some mention of self-harm from Inwoo's POV. He's not coping well.

"What--?" Bokyung fumbled with her phone while walking home, her usual amble turning into a frantic jog at the news she'd received, "Aw, come on, Seo Inwoo-sshi, you were doing so fucking well too." She scrambled up the stairs two steps at a time, entering the house quickly at Dongshik sitting on the couch while staring at the disarray of the living room.

The carpet had been stabbed and sliced up uncharacteristically, and Dongshik himself nursed a nick on his cheek as he finally turned to Bokyung, ruffling his hair. "He snapped," Dongshik sighed, wiping at his cheek where the blood continued to drip, "I found him pulling the carpet apart with one of the kitchen knives, and then he tried to hurt himself. I fought him to get the knife out of his hand, and he called the police himself when he noticed he hurt me."

Bokyung sighed, looking at Dongshik's injury before heading over to pick up the first-aid box. "Oh well. That carpet was dying anyway," she replied with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, "It was a gift from my dad's caretaker, and I didn't know how to refuse her. Good riddance to bad trash, right? When Seo Inwoo-sshi gets better, we can just shop for a new carpet." 

Dongshik cringed and tried to steel himself when Bokyung cleaned the wound with a Q-tip. "Yeah, new carpet- and a place to store the knives so Inwoo-sshi can't get to them when he starts going dark," he replied shakily, letting Bokyung put a bandage over his cheek, "Will this leave a scar? God, I hope it does. Then I can finally brag about narrowly escaping a serial killer!" 

At this, Bokyung scoffed and punched him on the shoulder. "Of all things," she grumbled, before putting the box away and giving a sigh at the vegetables that were partially washed and abandoned in the sink, "Either way, I've rushed home, and there's no dinner because the person in charge of that is now in the psych ward having a breakdown of a lifetime. What now?" 

Dongshik pouted, trying to think. He then sighed, placing both hands behind his head. "I think we should still cook. Maybe they'd allow us to bring it to him? I'm sure he'd probably prefer eating something from us than the crappy hospital food he'd end up stuck with," he suggested, his fluffy hair flopping to behind the seat, "He'd probably not want to see me, though. Inwoo-sshi felt so guilty about the whole matter, but you can go. I'll make the food and all." 

Bokyung balked slightly but Dongshik's smile didn't waver, even after just being attacked: they've gotten so used to Inwoo relapsing into serial-killer mode that such incidents were a dime a dozen, though him feeling so bad that he'd committed himself to the psych ward was a first. She smiled too, morbid as things were. It showed that Inwoo actually cared about them enough to see _himself_ as an actual threat, and that said a lot about how far he'd come. 

They nodded to each other, and Dongshik started getting to work with the rest of the vegetables. 

* * *

Inwoo had been quiet by and large, huddled in a hospital bed that was a little too cramped for his height. He'd requested to be sedated, afraid of himself as he were, and there he now laid, shivering and feeling utterly miserable. 

They all knew he was sick, twisted and defective. Years and years of training to keep a poker face, to mimic and show how others would feel about matters, shattered in an instant when he'd finally snapped. He'd snapped fairly often throughout the year, often reaching for items to either hurt himself with in a bid to feel _something_ similar to the thrill of the hunt he'd had before or destroying the furniture that sat around the house.

This was the first time he'd lashed out and hurt _someone_ that wasn't himself. It had to be Dongshik- Dongshik who was ever patient, kind and forgiving despite his many flaws. Dongshik who'd looked terrified when he'd actually lashed out and scratched him on the cheek with the knife in his hand. Dongshik who'd reached out to take the knife from his hand and soothed him even while bleeding all over. 

Everything seemed to eat at his mind and tear at his defenses. It made his heart ache, even as he knew he didn't deserve any of the kindness and patience he'd been given by the others so far. He hated himself even more for cracking and showing them the monster and tormentor he'd been to them the entire time. He didn't deserve either of them. 

In the haze of his mind, he felt someone shake him slightly. An indistinct voice called for him, and he righted himself before blinking slowly, careful not to jostle the familiar handcuff on his right wrist. "Nngh," he grunted, taking in the table that'd been pulled closer to him and then the blurry figure that soon gained definition as Bokyung placed a tumbler on the table. 

"You look like shit," Bokyung teased, pouring a bowl of steaming soup in front of Inwoo before placing a spoon inside the bowl and sliding it to him, "Can you eat? Do you feel hungry? No pressure, no need to answer if you're still finding your tongue. I like you quiet anyway." 

Inwoo forced a half-snarl at her words, before placing his left hand onto the table with a little more force than necessary. He felt like he had weights tied down on his limbs- everything felt like far too much effort. Sliding his arm towards the bowl, he held it in his hand to take the heat in before feeling his eyes mist over at the display.

Nobody had ever done this for him before.

He quickly blinked now, sobering up at the display of his softer sensibilities before grunting out a small noncommittal "thanks" to Bokyung. Unable to maintain eye contact with her, he instead chose to wolf the soup down, trying to pretend he hadn't gotten emotional over a bowl of food. Bokyung merely watched, refilling as needed and letting Inwoo take his time with it. It wasn't like it was anything he hadn't had before, but Bokyung had noticed the flicker of surprised recognition in his eyes when he'd finally realised it was her. 

She had heard that nobody visited him in hospital throughout his coma, and his stint in the psych ward. He'd always been grappling with this alone, and this was probably the first time someone had visited him the way she had. Bokyung felt a small sense of sympathy about matters, even as it was clouded in the karmic thought of "this is what you have for treating my father the same way". Inwoo had looked so much like a child at that moment that her harshest words fell away. She couldn't possibly hurt someone already as broken as he was. 

When she closed the tumbler to put it away, Bokyung watched Inwoo's gaze follow her movements. "Will you...?" he asked, his tone hopeful before he abruptly stopped himself, as though wary of being too excited about seeing her again. 

"Yeah," Bokyung found herself replying, as though something compelled her to remain nice, "I'll drop by after work." 

Inwoo's eyes flitted away from her as he laid back down, still curled on his side. It seemed that was all he wanted to hear, though Bokyung could tell how skeptical he seemed about it. She really couldn't fault him, all things considered. 

Picking up her items to leave, Bokyung couldn't help but look at Inwoo one last time. He'd been constantly putting up a front with them that she'd almost forgotten how broken and miserable he actually was. She sighed, annoyed at herself for showing kindness to the man who'd caused her nothing but trouble before tucking him in with the blanket provided, stepping away once again before finally managing to leave, willing herself not to look back. 


	17. Reconcile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Soup. 
> 
> Dongshik and Inwoo have a chat while Inwoo continues feeling ill.

Inwoo had been reading and regaining his bearings when Dongshik arrived to see him. It wasn't difficult for him to discern them from the way they walked, really. Bokyung strode with a confident plod, and Dongshik tottered haphazardly and excitably like the human-shaped golden retriever he was. When Dongshik had sat down, though, he quickly put the book away but found himself unable to meet Dongshik's gaze even as he fussed over him for growing so thin all of a sudden. 

He didn't dare look at Dongshik's face- he couldn't, especially after what happened. Even then, Dongshik pulled Inwoo's face closer to himself, trying to make sure that Inwoo could see him. Inwoo's eyes lowered quickly and guiltily, pulling himself away roughly before throwing his arms around himself in a feeble attempt of comfort. "Don't look at me like that," he managed the threat, but his voice cracked between his words, making it seem more a plea than the warning he'd wanted to convey. 

Dongshik sat back, a small worried pout upon his features. "Hey. It's really ok," Dongshik replied without hesitation, tilting his head slightly with a wide grin, "I'm fine! I can now brag about my near death experience with a serial killer giving me the scar on my face. How cool is that?" He pointed to the bandage over it- Inwoo knew it wasn't deep enough to scar, because if he had his way he would've punctured Dongshik's cheek entirely, but a wave of nausea and exhaustion seemed to overcome him trying to even _look_ at him. 

The guilt and self-loathe ate him alive. He couldn't imagine returning home knowing he was a threat to them both. Inwoo's hands balled into fists and fell on his lap, staring staunchly downwards when Dongshik paused, falling silent seeing the other's discomfort. 

"Maybe...maybe I should take the shock collar back, if this is going to keep occurring," Inwoo finally spoke, his voice hoarse from screaming himself raw (mentally as well), "I should. Just in case." 

Dongshik faltered, and his chipper nature seemed to fade at the suggestion. "It hurts you," Dongshik replied, reaching for Inwoo's hands and startling when he flinched away, "You really don't have to. It was something used to degrade you, make you seem like an animal, you really don't need to--" 

"But I am!" Inwoo felt tears stinging his eyes when he spoke this with conviction- and for once he seemed so afraid and resigned all at once, "I can't control myself! This'll keep happening until you two are dead! I'm an animal...it's how it's always been. You don't have to feel sorry for me. It's how it's always been." 

Dongshik pouted again, but kept his hands to himself. "I'm sorry for joking about it. You don't have to do this. We'll fix this together, okay? Me, you and Bokyung. We've come so far...I'm sure we'd be able to work out a system." Inwoo hated how Dongshik remained always optimistic and hopeful, even after he'd hurt him when he knew he never meant it.

Sweet, nice Dongshik who always thought love and care would solve all their problems. He'd regret it when Inwoo inevitably tore him apart. The dark thoughts haunted Inwoo's mind, and he looked down once again, refusing to meet Dongshik's gaze or reply. Once again, Dongshik smiled despite the heavy mood in the room, looking back at Inwoo. 

"Please don't do this," Dongshik begged now, trying to plead with Inwoo- he glanced away before succumbing to the puppy dog eyes Dongshik often gave, "But...but if you think it helps, I'll try to support you. Bokyung will too, I'm sure of it." 

Inwoo ran his hands over his neck again, feeling the scarred patch where the contact point of the shock collar had been. It activated whenever he was angry or distressed, and it reminded him of his place. The choker was comfortable, but a placebo. He didn't mind it, and had been relieved with the collar removed- but now, he felt he needed it. 

He felt his hands shake violently from his seat, angry tears already beginning to roll down his face. Inwoo hated it when Dongshik remained so understanding. He wanted Dongshik to scold him- strike at him, even, or twist his arm like he did before. Anything but the pity and protection he gave him now. 

At the sudden contact, Inwoo's body stiffened and grew frigid, but he felt Dongshik's arms around his neck as he patted him on the back. "It's ok, Inwoo-sshi. We'll figure something out," he comforted, and Inwoo couldn't stop the tears from flowing as the dam of guilt finally began to give, "Whatever makes you comfortable, ok?" 

He couldn't remember the last time anyone had hugged him, and when Dongshik's warmth spread through his frame, Inwoo found himself laying his head on Dongshik's shoulder, silent and angry tears flowing freely while his shaking hands unconsciously reached out to wrap around the other man protectively. 

It hurt, everything did. 

In that moment, though, he just wanted that comfort and understanding, something nobody had ever given him a chance at before. 


	18. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Telltale quirks of Dongshik and Bokyung hiding things, and Inwoo seeing past them both.

"Show me what you have in the box," Inwoo glanced at Dongshik, trying to peer behind the shorter man as Dongshik squirmed out of the way. "Tell me, or I'll kill you and open the box to find out." Dongshik pushed the box to the side, refusing to let Inwoo even have a peek inside it.

"Nu-uh!" he protested, "It's poison to kill you with. You shouldn't look inside." 

Inwoo scoffed at this feeble lie. "No poison can kill me. Even then, I will gladly eat the poison, if it means you are the one serving it to me." At this, Dongshik pouted even more furiously before pushing the box out of the way beneath them both. 

"That wasn't an excuse to flirt with me!" he protested, face rapidly reddening, "Anyway, I'm leaving and taking my poison with me. Don't follow me!" 

The lying was so bad that Inwoo started to suspect that this whole thing was an elaborate trap. Every time Dongshik got flustered and evasive the way he was now, he expected the rug to be pulled under him at any given moment. The first time, he'd been drugged and woke up tied to a bed. The second time, he'd been pushed out of his own office from a height. The last time this happened he'd stabbed a mannequin and was locked in an escape room.

It was better to just leave it, Inwoo told himself, because if he didn't, he was uncertain how well he'd walk away from matters. Worried for himself and valuing his own self-preservation, he dropped the matter and instead watched Bokyung shuffle away some other items in a poor bid to hide them. 

"What are those," he pointed out bluntly, and Bokyung seemed for a brief moment nervous about the matter. He watched her turn to cover the texts with her entire body, shiftily looking back to him. 

"Bills, obviously," snarked Bokyung back- her usual, but oddly evasive considering it was a simple question. Inwoo's brow arched when he eyed her carefully, as if willing her to wilt the same way Dongshik had. She instead dug in her heels ( _typical_ of Shim Bokyung, really), throwing the other inconsequential letters onto the ground. "If it bothers you so much you can pick it up and go make payment." 

Inwoo stretched down, avoiding pressure on his left leg as he picked the stack up- sure enough, scanning it yielded none of the answers he was looking for. This was enough of an opening to ensure Bokyung could escape into her room, though, and Inwoo was left scowling and in the dark about matters. 

He trudged to the couch and sat heavily on it, sulking about matters. Inwoo could tell he was being excluded, and though this was a regular occurrence throughout his life, he hated that this coming from the two people he'd grown to care about actually _bothered_ him. Maybe being discharged from the hospital so soon was a mistake. Unconsciously, his hands went to the choker he'd gotten accustomed to wearing once more, running them across the strap to expel the nervous energy he had. 

The silence eventually grew far too uncomfortable for Inwoo, and he stumbled over to the kitchen in order to take his medication- maybe keeping his hands and mind occupied with work would help. Instead, he was greeted by Dongshik and Bokyung carefully decorating a small cake there, before they looked up in surprise at his staring before Bokyung shielded the cake somewhat futilely with her arm. 

"We're not done! Turn around and go to your room!" she suggested, surprisingly flustered about the matters, and Inwoo defiantly leant against the doorframe to keep staring. As they finally moved aside, Inwoo finally noticed that the cake was actually matcha- he'd mentioned in passing that he'd liked it and it seemed like they had remembered. 

What...why were they doing this? Inwoo continued to watch this bustle in silence before Dongshik pulled him over towards the cake, sitting him down excitedly and sliding it towards him, along with two cards. 

He tilted his head in wary curiosity, before going through the cards with curiosity. It didn't take him much time to scan through them both, and he grew quiet as he felt himself stiffen again. 

They'd been so evasive...to celebrate him coming back home? Inwoo couldn't wrap his head around it. People _liked_ him that much? It felt almost bizarre and nonsensical after what he'd just did days before, but the only sign of his hesitation was the slight clench of the cards in his hands before he looked to the cake again. The aroma of matcha made him relax, yet he couldn't help but feel the same sense of bafflement as before. 

He tamped it down, muttering soft words of appreciation as he accepted the cake. He hated himself for thinking the worst of his two companions. Maybe it was just better to do things their way. 


	19. House Arrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokyung is unused to the concept of quarantine.

"Fourteen days?" Bokyung's tone was incredulous as she got off the phone call, blinking slowly to take the news in, "That's _too long_! Criminals aren't going to stop committing crimes because of _quarantine_! This is ridiculous! People flouting quarantine _is_ a crime, too! This...this..." She sputtered as she collapsed into a couch, putting her phone away before cradling her head, frustrated by the sudden change. 

Inwoo eyed her from his spot draped over the couch with a book in hand, his long legs hanging off the side at being unable to accommodate his length. "Treat it like a two-week vacation. Profilers aren't exactly counted as essential according to the constitution, looks like," he quipped drily, intent on rubbing this in before adjusting his reading glasses. 

Bokyung hopped off her couch before grabbing Inwoo by the throat (he was lying down anyway). "You'd be the most pleased about this development," she hissed, all while Inwoo stared at her with an amused tilt of his head, "Getting me and the rest of the cops out of the picture so people like you would be free to run amok again." 

"I prefer calling it exercising some degree of civic duty," Inwoo drawled as his hand clamped down upon Bokyung's wrist painfully, ripping it off himself and sending Bokyung hurtling on the carpet, "If we all stay at home, there is less of a chance to spread the disease. Unless you'd rather be catching criminals in the nether realms, spare me your self-righteous discourse." 

She huffed, sitting back up again with a glare at Inwoo. "I'm still watching you, though," she growled, holding her arm before narrowing her eyes with a glare, "I have plenty of time, after all." She soon scrambled to her feet, pacing around while thinking as Inwoo returned to his book quietly.

How hard could it possibly be? Bokyung was sure she could occupy herself for the duration. She just didn't trust herself to not kill Inwoo first, being in the same space with him constantly for 2 weeks. She could deal with seeing him at home and being at work most of the day- but being around him after he'd taunted her off the bat about the matter? The gloves already came off from the get go. 

* * *

For starters, Bokyung got herself into the habit of jogging around her apartment block for the first few days. It was quiet in the mornings, and with the comfortable spring breeze, she was happy to try this out. Anything to get out of the house and not bump into Inwoo, really. It wasn't like his anklet wouldn't go off outside of the house's radius. 

Dongshik had decided to accompany her as well after some time, claiming running would help him clear his head and give him more ideas. She was relieved for it, really. Most of the time, Dongshik had spent his time in quarantine quietly reading or working on his novel, occasionally making a few calls to Chilsung and the chicken place to tell them he was doing ok. In the meantime, she'd tried to do the same- but realised that abruptly telling her father that she was on unpaid leave for two weeks would raise too many questions. 

They casually made a round around the apartment block, and it didn't take too long for Dongshik to lie panting on the ground, curled to his side while waving his hands in surrender. "No...no more..." he whined, rolling over to sprawl himself out on the pavement, "I said I'd commit to 5km a day, but I can't even do 2...let's go home, Bokyung-sshi." 

Bokyung warmed down while slowing to a stop before him, hands on her hips as she did so. "We barely started. Come on, Dongshik-sshi, this isn't the time for theatrics and dawdling," she huffed, glancing towards the pavement before pulling Dongshik back to his feet, "We need to stay sharp after all. Fourteen days of doing nothing will do things to your mind." 

He whined as he dragged his feet towards Bokyung, dangling his arms in front of him with an exaggerated hunch of his back. "I'm tired already," he pouted, waving his arms around in protest, "Go on without me...I'm going to hit the showers." 

This earned a scowl from Bokyung, who eventually sagged with a sigh. "Fine. Since you're already out, why not go see if anywhere's open for breakfast?" she suggested, trying to smooth things over before Dongshik grinned back with a nod. 

Watching him prance away excitedly at the prospect of food, Bokyung turned to continue her jog around the apartment block. It was mindless routine, more to keep her body strong than anything. This kept the darkness at the back of her mind, the anxieties about how uncertain life was, from creeping up behind her. She couldn't afford to die, not with her father the way he was. She had too much to do, but admitting that she was scared would just be another bullet in Inwoo's loaded gun of her various insecurities. 

She couldn't expect him to empathise, what with his lack of emotional sensitivity and all. Dongshik had enough to think about as it was, what with his cluttered and chaotic family he had now been living apart from. If she did catch the bug, Dongshik would be implicated and be forced to be in quarantine as well. It wasn't just her own responsibility, but it was a promise to another too. When Dongshik moved in, she'd made a promise to herself to hold herself accountable for his and Inwoo's welfare. All the more that she couldn't falter now. 

Turning her last circle around the building, she made her way back home to see Inwoo exercising on his own as well- he'd been working on some minor leg exercises, no doubt attempting to strengthen his injured ankle. He cast a glance at her, and Bokyung immediately felt his gaze sear through her. She sagged, allowing the fatigue to show on her features when she grunted a greeting, heading towards the showers.

Inwoo's eyes followed her, an eyebrow staunchly raised in curiosity doing so. 

* * *

He shrugged, returning to his weights. While he was aware Bokyung had been acting strangely (antsily, even) in the time she'd been at home, he didn't really think she'd shown herself as _tired_ in his presence. She rarely showed any sign of weakness to him, especially knowing how he'd exploit it. Loathe as this worried him, he remained blank and noncommittal in the matter for the time being, figuring she'd reach out when she was ready. Watching her emerge from the shower, though, he figured that would not be any time soon. 

Putting the weights away, Inwoo stood and retreated to his room, giving Bokyung some space in the meanwhile. There was a look of shock that flitted across her face seeing this but as the door shut between them, she huffed quietly and returned to scrubbing at her hair. 


	20. Mothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokyung, Inwoo and Dongshik visit their mothers. 
> 
> All of them have their own ways to want to flee- but why?

"Happy Mother's Day," Bokyung's voice remained clipped over the phone as she tucked her father in, "You still can't come back? That won't be a problem. It doesn't matter anyway." She was trying her best to keep her cool about the matter, but in her heart she felt nothing. It was just a customary greeting to get her mother off her back for the rest of the year- similar to the "customary greetings" she'd given them when her father had ended up that way. After hanging up on the phone, Bokyung sat quietly by herself in the seat beside her father's bed she'd grown so used to. 

She didn't really remember even having a mother. It was more...a convenient figurehead. As much as her father had been immensely busy, he'd constantly endeavored to make more time with her as much as he could until the accident. On the other hand, she could count on one hand how many times her mother had visited after the accident (after Seo Inwoo's trick attempting to hide him away from the rest of the family). Bokyung sighed shakily, cleaning the rest of the food tins away before trying to regain her bearings on the matter. 

Truth be told, she resented her mother sometimes for being this callous to them both. She couldn't quite fault her, really. Her father's condition fluctuated, and it was old news that he could leave them at a moment's notice. Kicking her feet like a small child, she nuzzled her father's face with her cheek to wish him a good night, before stealing away from him to start making her way back home. 

If there were anything she relished about the forced leave she'd had to take, it was that at least she could spend more time with her father. 

* * *

"Oh yeobo, it has been many years since you left us and the restaurant..." droned Dongshik's father as he lifted the incense sticks above his head, "Dongshik and Dongchan have grown into fine young men...I also burnt you copies of our Dongshik's books for you to read--" 

Dongshik quickly hushed his father before he could go on further, setting out some more plates of food in front of the ancestral tablet. "Umma, you can skip Psychopath Diary if you don't want to read it..." he corrected- a perfectly good set of books, gone because Dongshik's father insisted they burnt a copy each for his mum the moment they were released so that she could 'read them and know what he's been up to'. He quietly set out several pastries on the plates, before lighting the incense sticks as well and passing them to a clueless Dongchan. 

"Appa, do we _really_ have to? Today is Mother's Day and nobody will eat these!" whined the younger boy, pointing out the sprawling table crammed with food offerings to his family members, "Every year the spread just gets more and more immense! Umma is going to burst in the other world eating everything--" He was rudely interrupted by Chilsung pulling a chunk of his hair, and Dongchan's protests faded into whimpers of pain as the tough-looking man gave Dongshik a goofy grin. 

Dongshik grinned back sheepishly, waving the incense sticks before him and then sticking them into the holder set up in front of them. He rested a hand on the glass panel that separated the urn from the rest, tracing the only photograph inside- a faded and yellowed picture of a woman holding a toddler in one hand and a baby nestled in the nook of her other arm, with a much-younger version of Dongshik's father resting his hand on her shoulder with his characteristic wide smile and a thumbs up. 

As Dongchan began his prayers to his mother, Dongshik rested his forehead against the glass. "Thank you," he muttered, letting his breath fog up its surface- he remembered the dream after his battle with Inwoo, where he'd laid his head on her lap and she had caressed his hair the same way she had when he was a child. The bittersweet feelings swelled in his chest, and Dongshik eventually pulled away from the picture and wiped his tears as the rest began to pack. 

He startled, feeling a strong grip on his shoulder and turning to see his father looking at him. "Aigoo. Look at you," he fussed, pushing his floppy fringe away from his face, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure she loves your books and she'd send me a dream about it soon...she kept saying keeping you in the restaurant was bad for you...aigoo, our Dongshik and Dongchan are now doing everything that isn't about my chicken..." 

While Dongshik's father prattled on, waxing theatrics about no longer having an heir to the restaurant and having to groom Chilsung for the inheritance, Dongshik finally managed to crack a grin through his tears. 

* * *

Inwoo had made his way to the lone tombstone- alone. 

Nobody remembered the first Mrs Seo of the household. It was but him, and he set down the basket he'd brought with him before carefully laying a small cake on the plot. He got to work, the rare time the usually overbearing man went on his hands and knees weeding the patch and polishing the stone so much that it shone. When he was finally done, he curled up on the patch next to his mother, willing himself not to cry. 

"I'm sorry," he muttered to nobody in particular, resting his face in the nook he'd made with his arms, "I'm sorry, umma, I'm sorry..." 

He'd been weak before and unable to protect her. Even now, he still remained weak. He'd trained for so long to become the skilled predator he was, climbing the food chain viciously through a mixture of business aggression and outright murder, but even then, he'd still been the same scared child unable to lift a finger against his father so many years ago. 

Inwoo pulled his knees closer to himself, desperately hoping that he too would disappear as he finally felt hot tears sting his eyes. Someone like him shouldn't hurt the same way others did, but why did he always feel himself ripping apart by the seams whenever this day came? 


	21. Adaptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongshik moves into the apartment by himself for the first time. 
> 
> Bokyung helps...and there's a new arrival nobody quite expects.

The sound of laughter drifted up from the street below, making him feel very alone in this new town. Dongshik shivered, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he beckoned the van to back into the front entrance.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking apologetic at making his friends help him move on such a cold day- but it wasn't just him, at least. He wasn't sure what to expect, taking out that lease with Bokyung as roommates a mere month ago. They'd made the decision to move in with each other for convenience- it was much easier to reach the police station across the street where she'd been posted to, and only two subway stations from his father's chicken place. Even then, as Chilsung got off to start lifting the boxes with Taeksoo's help, he quickly scurried over to help out too. 

The fact that neither of them had much to even _move_ in the first place made this even more awkward. The most Dongshik had was his worktable and sprawling collection of vintage VCRs and books- his VCR recorder sat bubblewrapped on the seat he'd jumped out of, adamantly refusing to let Chilsung's driving ruin his precious player. Bokyung herself had hardly anything, having been posted to Seoul herself not too long ago. She'd moved some of her bookshelves and a few photographs of herself with her father but had barely any actual possessions to her name either. 

As the final boxes were relocated to their respective rooms, Dongshik sat cross-legged on the floor, nose wrinkled in concentration as he scrolled through the list of delivery options. He didn't want Chilsung and Taeksoo to go home without a meal, but their gas hadn't been set up yet and they had no refrigerator (a mixup meant that they'd delivered to the wrong address- why would they deliver to a building in Apujeong when it was listed as Apujeongrodeo? Dongshik couldn't help shake his head at his streak of bad luck), so they had little to no choice but to get something delivered. 

Bokyung wiped down the VCR recorder, plugging it in on the box TV she'd brought. She grinned, leafing through the stack of thrillers Dongshik had brought to select one for them to pass the time. "How about Silence of the Lambs? That's a classic," she suggested to the rest, "We can watch while waiting for Dongshik-sshi to decide on delivery." Chilsung agreed immediately, happy with whatever decision "Boss" was going to make, while Taeksoo had now leant in to Dongshik to point out the digital coupons they could use to waive the delivery fees with. 

Her phone went off, and Bokyung paused to shuffle it out of her coat- her smile dropped instantly, and she turned to Dongshik, motioning that they should head to one of the rooms. Dongshik peered up, tossing his phone to a surprised Taeksoo and telling him that it was their treat before scampering towards the room he knew would eventually be Bokyung's. 

She motioned to Chilsung and Taeksoo now huddled together and scrolling through the delivery options, before shutting the door behind them and showing Dongshik her phone. "They're sending Seo Inwoo to us tonight," she sighed, cupping her hand in her cheek, "Why'd we even agree to this again? I still can't believe his brother paid off this entire house including the furniture we got, just so he could twist our arms to take him in." 

Dongshik kicked his feet and ruffled his hair. "We met him at the cafe, remember?" he replied, trying to seem chipper despite the crease of worry forming on his brow, "He can't hurt anyone anymore, Bokyung-sshi. It's not a great arrangement, I'd admit, but if sajang-- Jihoon-sshi offered us something like that, maybe we could just...try...? I don't trust him too much either, but...it's been a year since he got arrested in the escape room. Maybe he did improve enough." Even the usually cheery Dongshik wasn't certain if this would even work out. It was a tentative arrangement: house arrest on the clause of insanity, and they'd been appointed the status of his retainers to keep an eye on him. 

Bokyung didn't reply, cradling the arm in which she'd been shot as she peered out of the window- a light sheet of snow was beginning to form, and she glanced down to see the police car pulling up at the entrance. The lanky man was pushed out of it, his face obscured by the falling snow but obviously snarling as they shuffled towards their apartment. She sighed again, dropping her arms. "Let's go greet then," she suggested, more to reassure herself and Dongshik than being sincere about the matter. 

They both opened the door- sure enough, the tall man once again loomed over them, dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and long loose pants, but with deep dark circles, glazed eyes and tousled hair, it was hard to reconcile Seo Inwoo now with the original suave and dangerous predator he'd once been. Chilsung and Taeksoo shrieked in united alarm seeing who'd visited, but when Seo Inwoo's glare fell upon them (even in the fog of his heavily-sedated mind it did seem like he'd recognised them), they both fell into fearful silence. Dongshik carefully took Inwoo's hand to place it on his shoulder, watching it slide off as he stared back down at the smaller man. 

"Don't give me that look," he croaked softly, voice hoarse as if he hadn't used it in a while, "I'll go inside myself." He rolled his eyes with a snarl of annoyance, willing himself to stumble forth in a straight line as he entered the house, turning into the closest room he could see and tossing the small bag of effects he had down. Bokyung spoke in hushed tones to the officers about the clauses and what they'd need, and Dongshik watched as she accepted a small remote from them, looking slightly distressed at matters before bowing to them as they left. 

He grabbed Bokyung's arm, eyes wide. "Ah, ah. Bokyung-sshi. Please," he began, cupping her hand over the remote, "Are we really going to--" 

Bokyung shrugged his arm off, pocketing it. "I won't. I promise. Unless he acts up- but he looks subdued. Tired. It's...weird," she admitted, her initial indignance at Dongshik not trusting her fading to one of concern, "I hope he's still the same Seo Inwoo-sshi we fought before, even just a little. If he's just a husk of his original self...there's not much point in us taking him in, right? He'd be beyond help...and redemption. I want him to pay for what he did to my dad..." She patted her pocket, putting her hand inside it and feeling the remote inside. 

"But I'm not him," she ended, looking determined, "I don't believe that more pain is what would complete my revenge. It just perpetuates a cycle, and he doesn't learn anything. We're better than that."

She glanced towards the room, then to Dongshik, finally cracking a smile. "We are, right?" she added quickly, looking for backup. 

Dongshik grinned his classic dopey grin, making his eyes disappear. "I support you, Bokyung-sshi. That's why we agreed to this, right?" 

"Well...and being able to just cross the road to work..." she trailed off, before startling at the deliveryman appearing next to her with chicken. 

Dongshik chuckled again. "Yeah...and being able to just cross the road to work. Sure." 


	22. Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out the trio actually did have something in common.

From behind the computer, a pale but muscular hand extended, reaching into a large bag of gummy worms as the man continued to type away. Creating some macros shouldn't be this difficult, but it was tedious work. Inwoo nibbled on a few hapless ones, slurping them up before bunching them up in one hand and clipping the top off so they didn't attract ants. Using his brain required plenty of sugar and coffee, both things Inwoo enjoyed in moderation- others in the company preferred to smoke to destress, whereas he'd preferred murder. Now that _that_ was out of the window, though, he'd taken to buying candies to sustain his often overworked brain. 

Dongshik across him was doing the same, casually reaching for a handful of chocolate beans while he worked on the next transcript of his novel. He occasionally pushed his glasses up, muttering to himself or spacing out while chewing- the sound of the bag of worms hitting the table made him jump, though, and Dongshik shook his fist at Inwoo stealing his half-finished bag. He'd had a good scene going, where the protagonist finally confronted his stepparents about never calling him by his name but "that man", and Inwoo's interruption had made him lose his train of thought. He'd have to continue it later, he grumbled, pulling open the top of the bag to snack on some gummies. 

Inwoo lounged on the couch to recharge in the meantime, demurely eating one bean at a time to avoid dirtying his hands or face. He didn't enjoy chocolates, but he enjoyed harassing Dongshik about them at any given opportunity. Stealing his beans was the classic gesture to get Dongshik frustrated, and he sure did love seeing Dongshik bluster and huff in annoyance about him being in focus. Smirking to himself, Inwoo bunched up the bag again decisively, looking at the clock before giving a stretch. Someone else he could annoy was on her way home, and he needed to get himself ready to start. 

"Hey. Give me my beans back," Dongshik's hand shot out from behind his laptop, feeling around for something that wasn't the worms. 

"I'm still considering emptying the bag into my mouth," Inwoo replied, putting the bag inside the fridge before slapping Dongshik's hand away, "Enough is enough. Half the bag's already gone, and dinner is on the way." 

Dongshik pouted and withdrew his hand. "Y-yah. Speak for yourself. You ate plenty of worms too." 

To that, Inwoo nodded in agreement. "It is after all the worms' good fortune. Furthermore, I exercise regularly, so not only do I work up an appetite, I also consume _in moderation_ ," he corrected condescendingly, wagging a finger as he meandered unsteadily back to his desk. 

"Why wouldn't you say that about my ass, hmm?" Dongshik huffed, wrinkling his nose at the childish argument, "If you're that healthy, stop eating my ass and Bokyung's. I'm sure that'll help you heaps." 

"My diet is my own," Inwoo examined his fingernails, "I will eat as much as I please...so long as the offer stands." He grinned his classic unhinged smirk to Dongshik, before the door finally clicked open to Bokyung huffing, several bags in each hand. 

"Would it kill you both to stop comparing who ate each other out more and help me with _this_ ," panted Bokyung, and both Inwoo and Dongshik proceeded to bring her items inside, setting them out on the table. 

Dongshik checked the stash for perishables, before stumbling upon a treasure- he lifted the ice cream tub in the air, excited at discovering his new prize. Inwoo raised a brow, unsure of how to sort the items but seeing Dongshik find ice-cream, he was unwilling to be outdone and began digging. Sure enough, he'd soon unearthed several tubs of ice-cream of various flavors, setting them out on the table. 

Bokyung looked smug at the boys unloading her stash for her. "One tub per day while I catch up on TV," she commented, removing the tub from Dongshik's hands before putting them into the fridge, "I made sure to choose a different flavor to keep things interesting, and they were offering a discounted price for a bundle of 2. It was calling my name! I just had to~" 

"Ahjumma," muttered Inwoo, ensuring to keep his tub out of reach from Bokyung by lifting his long arms- who strained, huffed before jumping on his maimed foot with both of hers. Once Inwoo fell to one knee clutching his abused leg, she happily retrieved her stolen goods and stashed them into the freezer, looking satisfied at causing Inwoo harm. 

They fell on the couch together, looking blissful for a few moments thinking about their candies. A common interest of theirs was various types of sweets, and today seemed no different. Inwoo glanced once again towards the now emptied bag, then to his stomach. 

"...did you actually buy any food _beside_ the ice-cream?" he asked warily, eying his watch and gauging the surcharges for takeout mentally. 

"Nope!" chirped Bokyung, pleased with herself. 


	23. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After 22,000 odd words of blueballing, the content you sluts asked for. 
> 
> Topless cuddles with the trio, obviously, because I have too much power

Bokyung emerged from the shower, hair still damp as she towelled herself off before tying it up into a bun to contain them. She was still in a bathrobe, watching Dongshik and Inwoo already curled up with each other before taking a photo with her phone just for a keepsake. 

Dongshik traced the grooves of Inwoo's body with a finger, watching him shiver unconsciously at a gentle touch he wasn't quite used to. Faded scars dotted the man's chiselled but thin frame, and Dongshik paused to...press Inwoo's nipple like one would a button. Inwoo flinched visibly at this, before he curled back up, pulling his legs slightly closer to his chest this time but still with his eyes shut, seemingly relaxed at Dongshik's movements. Dongshik looked at the scar that snaked down into the brace that held his left ankle together, reaching for it before Inwoo grabbed him roughly by the wrist at the motion. 

A primal growl came from the man when his eyes opened, and Dongshik struggled with a whimper until Inwoo abruptly let go, looking chastised. "Sorry," Inwoo quietly replied, dropping his arm and sidling up towards Dongshik until their foreheads were touching, "I would never hurt you. It was but--" 

"Reflex," Dongshik completed the sentence, watching Inwoo explore his body with his eyes. Inwoo reached out too, shakily trailing a finger down Dongshik's smaller frame in a poor attempt to mimic Dongshik. He was definitely not as defined as Inwoo was, but he did have some muscle- and Inwoo paused seeing the scar on his abdomen from where he'd stabbed himself to prove he'd killed Jihoon. A small smile formed on the man's usually stern glare, purring as if he'd just found a prize. 

"The first mark I'd left on you to make me remember me," he cooed, fingers dancing across Dongshik's arm as he grew more bold, "So many more to go. Your body is an untainted canvas, and I, the artist that would proceed to work on it." 

Dongshik scoffed, trying to pull away but giggling at the poor attempt to flirt. "Excuse me, I'm the one who made that scar," he corrected, lightly tapping Inwoo on the nose, "Don't claim credit for things that aren't yours-- Inwoo-sshi?" 

When Inwoo flinched, tilting his head back to avoid Dongshik, Dongshik had caught sight of the scars on his arm, grabbing Inwoo to check. "Hey, is this where Bokyung-sshi shot you?" he asked, studying the coin-shaped scar with interest. Inwoo wrenched his arm out, clutching his limb protectively. 

"...these are from my father," he mumbled in reply, his tone remaining low and wary at this admission, "He had a pellet gun he'd use on me if I failed to hunt correctly or wasn't paying Jihoon-sshi enough attention."

Bokyung had by then wiggled her way between them, before noticing the somber mood between them and tilting her head, still grinning. Dongshik mumbled an apology, but Bokyung extended her arms upwards to grab either of them in a headlock to pull them closer to herself. 

"No angst tonight. Only tits," she serenaded her men, and Dongshik immediately began squirming like an eager puppy despite himself, "If we want to compare scars, though..." She tilted the left side of her neck upwards to show Inwoo the circular brands he'd made with his shotgun. "They itched like crazy for months, and I couldn't even sleep properly on that side. Then again, it does raise lots of questions when people ask me about them." 

"Most assuredly so. You must be wonderful at parties," Inwoo's deep voice wafted in her ear, teasing and condescending at the same time, "Do you always open your conversations with how you had been marked by a serial killer? I'm sure that would make for a thrilling story." 

Bokyung scoffed, looking towards them both. "We're all scarred in different ways. Some invisibly, even," she commented, knocking her forehead against Inwoo's and watching him yelp in alarm, "But what matters is us healing from it and learning our lessons from it." 


	24. Plushies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongshik gets a giant plushie, giving one to Bokyung and Inwoo to share the joy. 
> 
> Inwoo tries to hide his jealousy about the entire matter.

"Look!" Dongshik grinned as he dragged out the massive plush from the large bag, "Its name is Whimsicott, and I am going to put it on my bed." The [large plush](https://www.asakura-japan.com/data/asakura-japan/_/70726f647563742f32303139313230365f3131356430622e6a706700363030000074006669745f686569676874.jpg) (more a cushion than anything) was a puffy maize-yellow cloud with two curled green horns, and its tiny black body was framed by orange eyes, and Dongshik wiggled it happily in front of Inwoo and Bokyung. 

Bokyung looked excited at the prospect, digging into the next bag and pulling out another smaller plush. "What's her name?" she asked, cradling the [black plush](https://i.redd.it/ba92rwm03nw31.jpg) with curled horns in her arms. With grey horns and a largely black body and a white belly, it was little wonder how much Bokyung was taken by it as she cuddled it before checking the tag, sounding out the word "Indeedee" and giggling to herself at how silly the name was to her. 

Inwoo merely took this in with a deadeyed expression, baffled at their excitement. They were inanimate toys, and he couldn't fathom how such small creatures could bring them so much joy. "Come on, Inwoo, I got you one too!" Dongshik was already on his way by dropping [another plush](https://i.imgur.com/j3ICPu7.jpeg) into Inwoo's lap- a malformed sprite-like beast with a bull's face and red markings. Inwoo scowled, tossing it aside with a huff. 

"This is stupid," he declared, unable to hide his feelings about the rest showering these inanimate objects with so much love and affection, "They do nothing. Why do you care so much about them, and why does it bring you two so much joy to...play with these things?" The word 'play' had been used in disgust and annoyance, something he couldn't understand seeing the rest so invested. Investing so much time to soft things that did nothing else but be cute? He already had that, and his name was Yook Dongshik who yapped on command too. He didn't need more of that. 

Dongshik puffed his cheeks out, taking the plush back. "Just you wait. You'll need it eventually," he scoffed, putting it back inside the bag, "You'll see what I mean." Inwoo shook his head, incredulous at Dongshik's insistence. 

* * *

Truth be told, Dongshik had known of Inwoo's anxieties when he'd left the house, because Inwoo couldn't. Whenever Dongshik was away, he'd receive clipped, passive aggressive messages from the other man, demanding things and just generally being disruptive. He really was like a cat sometimes, with his neediness and constant reinforcement of power over him, but it was strange that Inwoo'd been quiet for the time he'd been working. 

Hm...Dongshik cycled home from the escape room, worried about matters and hoping he hadn't done something silly while sitting at home. Inwoo refused to take his anxiety medications, insisting they eroded his mind and was a ploy to keep him weak and preylike, so Dongshik had some rightful concerns about matters. Tossing his helmet onto his seat, he dashed to the apartment...only to see the tailend of Inwoo arguing with the Whimsicott he'd gotten, before turning it around to face the couch with a huff. 

"Inwoo-sshi?" he called, looking cautious but amused by his behavior, "Did you bicker with my Whimsicott?" 

Inwoo straightened, before clutching his neck where his collar had been: a customary gesture from when he'd felt something strong and expected it to go off. "N-no," he mumbled, quickly hunching over his Switch and trying to hide the blush that rapidly formed on his features, "I don't know what you're talking about. You weren't supposed to be home early anyway." 

Dongshik sidled over, beginning to tease. "Come on~ We all saw it~" he cooed, waving the plush in Inwoo's face and watching the man's blush extend to his ears, "You should apologise to Whimsicott-sshi~" 

"It's not even alive!" Inwoo snarled, finally breaking his resolve before running both hands across his neck and turning to Dongshik with a glare, "I'm not doing it, not after your stupid mannequin act!" 

"Are you still mad about that?" Dongshik chuckled, then cuddled the Whimsicott again, "Don't be. You can treat this Whimsicott as me when you're alone at home, so you won't feel so lonely. I got worried cuz you didn't text me to complain, so I came back soon as I could." 

"Not like I missed you or anything," he gritted out, before snatching Whimsicott out of Dongshik's hands, "We're not done." 


	25. Sleep, or Lack Thereof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inwoo has a problem. He refuses to sleep. 
> 
> Sick and tired of being kept up, Dongshik and Bokyung try to make him sleep.

_Crash!_

Bokyung jumped out of bed, on high alert as she quickly made her way outside with her baton in hand. It'd been the third night in a row that she'd heard shuffling noises in the dead of night, and tonight there had been a crash that seemed to indicate something amiss. As she crept towards the kitchen where she'd heard the noise from, she came face-to-face with Inwoo, who looked entirely too innocent in matters. 

"Seo Inwoo-sshi! It's 4am! What are you doing up!" Bokyung was far too tired to raise her voice, and Inwoo merely stared at her for a few moments before leering at her in annoyance. 

"Why should you care. I will not sleep," he replied, stalking back to his room with the metal cup he'd fumbled with moments earlier in his hand, "Sleeping makes me vulnerable. I have now declared that sleep is no longer needed, and thus I will remain awake for as long as I please." 

"You can't cancel sleep like--" Bokyung raised a finger to explain, but Inwoo's door shut behind her, and she sighed before ruffling her hair, returning to bed to collapse into it. Inwoo was silly. He couldn't just say no to sleep: everyone needed the rest, and she figured it was just one of his phases of psychosis where he said irrational things with such conviction. 

* * *

Dongshik headed out, shaking his head as he stopped at the entrance, turning to the shut door of Inwoo's room before turning to Bokyung. 

"He still hasn't slept yet?" Bokyung seemed incredulous at this, studying her watch and shrugging, "It's been 2 whole days. He'll give out eventually, I'm sure. No matter what he says." 

"The world record is 10 days before the person just died," Dongshik cringed before shaking his head furiously, "I'd rather Inwoo-sshi not die...but we really need to convince him to go to bed. He's going to collapse terribly for several days for a row if he keeps this up."

As Dongshik headed off to open the escape room, Bokyung eyed the clock. She had a few hours free before needing to report in, and she jogged towards Inwoo's room before letting herself in (they'd broken the lock before Inwoo moved in, so that he couldn't self-harm in the privacy of his room), clutching the Whimsicott plush Dongshik had gotten himself in her arms. 

Inwoo was focused on his desktop's screen, the code jumping out at him as he leant forward to scan the errors he'd wrought, but he bristled feeling Bokyung enter. "Do you not knock before entering others' private quarters," he growled, though his eye bags were even more defined against his pale skin at closer inspection, "Besides, you can go for work. I will continue working on this, I'll take a walk when I finish it." 

"Go to sleep," Bokyung pulled Inwoo out of his chair, before shoving him into bed, "You can fix your code later." 

"I don't need sleep," Inwoo sat up immediately, trying to reach to his chair and winced feeling Bokyung's pressure against his maimed leg, "What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch? I told you, I don't have to. Get! Off! Me!" He grabbed Bokyung's hand by the finger, bending them backwards painfully in an attempt to force her to leave, but grunted in pain when she instead sought to dig her knee into his shattered ankle instead. 

"Let-- go--" Bokyung's faltering voice came out, fraught with pain from Inwoo immediately overpowering and pulling her backwards in a headlock, "It's for your own good! Let go of me!" She reached to pull Inwoo's hairs, and he growled lowly at the motion before tightening his grip around her neck briefly. Bokyung's anger immediately faded to fear as she gasped, belatedly realising who she was dealing with: before she felt his grip abruptly slackened, and Inwoo fell unconscious like a marionette cut off its strings. 

She sank to her knees, gasping for breath and pounding her chest for a few moments at the close shave. Bokyung shook her head, berating herself for forgetting that this was still the same Predator Killer from two years ago. How could she have let her guard down like this? Checking for a pulse, though, she relaxed seeing Inwoo still breathing, but he flinched away from the touch and seemed to curl up tighter, as if experiencing a nightmare of sorts. 

Bokyung scooched over despite her better judgment, gently tucking Whimsicott under his arm. Inwoo's grip tightened on it, before he pulled it closer to himself, seemingly starting to relax more feeling something anchor him. Seeing him accept the plush without complaint made Bokyung heave a sigh of relief, and she tucked Inwoo in gently before putting his desktop to sleep, sighing. 

For all his physical power and ability to strike fear so easily, Inwoo was such a child sometimes. 

"Good night, Seo Inwoo-sshi," Bokyung whispered, shuttering the curtains in his room to allow for some light to filter through, "I hope you'd eventually be able to sleep better..." 


	26. Videogames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dongshik sucks at Among Us and needs to be handheld through the damn thing. 
> 
> Inwoo and Bokyung both suffer when they start having to lie amongst each other with their opposing roles.

"There," Inwoo reached over and clicked the icon on Dongshik's laptop, "You can finally join us in playing Among Us." 

Bokyung celebrated this, kicking her feet from the couch and raising her arms in the air. "Finally! That means Inwoo'd stop terrorising Chilsung and Taeksoo during our quick play games. You also die really quickly when it's just 4 people, so maybe this'll draw the game out a bit more." 

"We could have always played in public rooms," Inwoo protested, and Bokyung glared at him from the corner of her eye. 

"Then the public players get to deal with you rage quitting every time you don't get the Imposter," she pointed out, and Inwoo rolled his eyes at this, remorseless. 

"The role of the murderer was tailor made for _me_ ," Inwoo retorted, tilting his head to the side as if confused, "What would be the point of me playing the game, if I am not the one to terrorise and sabotage everyone?" 

Their bickering was interrupted by Dongshik carefully moving his sprite around the screen, completing tasks attentively, and Bokyung peered over before pointing out details he might've missed or speeding him through tricks and tips on each task. Ever the fast learner, Dongshik picked things up quickly and gave a stretch, flashing his two significant others a thumbs up. 

"I-I think I'm ready!" Dongshik managed to squeak out without faltering, "We can run a few test rounds, and I think I'm ready to get going." 

"Great! I'll host," Bokyung turned on her laptop and set up a room, "I'll text you the code in the groupchat, and you can just input it. Afterwards, you can change your color and sprite items on the little laptop in the left corner." 

"You're such a mother hen," Inwoo scoffed, his fingers flying across his phone to input the code given, "I'm sure Yook Dongshik knows something as basic as changing his colors with the only thing in the map he can interact with." 

Dongshik's sprite had loaded and was now running into the nearest wall. 

Bokyung gave Inwoo a withering stare, before nudging Dongshik in the right direction. He obliged with a sheepish "oopsie", and Inwoo sighed deeply, instead focusing on the game while it loaded the countdown. 

* * *

By sheer accident, they'd had a room open for random people to join, and by then, several bodies had turned up. It didn't take long for Bokyung to rush to the Emergency Meeting button, glancing up at her two companions before narrowing her eyes. 

"For fuck's sake, it's either one of you," she declared, and Inwoo tugged at his choker before flashing her a charismatic smirk. 

"It's _always_ me," he purred, and Bokyung rolled her eyes this time, "What about you, Yook Dongshik? Are you still stuck at your tasks?" 

"I can't-- swipe-- the card--" Dongshik's voice was frantic as he feebly tried, over and over, to complete his task, "How does this game even work?" 

Inwoo leant over to look at Dongshik's process, toggling his black sprite to run over. "I'll come have a look." 

To his surprise, a familiar gleam had crept into Dongshik's eyes when their sprites had reached the same place, and Inwoo fumbled seeing Dongshik's brown, dogeared icon massacre his plain black one. 

"Fucking--" Inwoo hurled his phone onto the carpet in anger, before doubling back holding his neck instinctively (a byproduct of his shock collar), "Did you lure me there on purpose?!" 

Dongshik, to his credit, fluttered his eyelashes innocently at Inwoo and a very impressed Bokyung. "Either you or Bokyung-sshi would've shown up anyway..." he explained, "Besides, you and Bokyung-sshi were apart, so if I hadn't lured you to me, I would've gotten to Bokyung-sshi or you separately. It was only a matter of time." 

"You were stalling the kill timer by pretending you couldn't swipe the card reader," Bokyung analysed, "In the meantime, we were fixing all the sabotages you were causing, and you would kill in the guise of learning the game before shielding the corpses with your body until someone passed. Wow, Dongshik-ie. You really are a good serial killer." 

"Only in game!" Dongshik raised both hands in surrender when Inwoo rose to his full, threatening height with a snarl at his 'death', "After all...I did learn from the best."

He waved Inwoo's diary, which had been sitting next to him on his laptop, and Inwoo's snarl fell instantly at this before the trio finally began to laugh about matters. 


End file.
